Maps and Legends
by Rachel Greenwood
Summary: 12 years after Titanic, Jack and Rose find themselves on another boat, and once again things don't go as expected. Running into Cal again is just the least of the problems with a storm and armed captors to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: There are islands near Argentina if my research is correct, but for the purposes of the story I've chosen to make some up rather than use any real ones.**

 _July 1924_

 _The coast of Argentina_

The _Valkyrie_ was a small boat, just large enough for a half dozen or so passengers and the necessary crew members. There was a galley, two rooms for the crew, a captain's quarters, a common room for the passengers, three staterooms large enough for two people each, and a small cargo hold, which was empty as often as it was not. The boat carried mail and supplies to some of the small islands, but its primary function was as a touring vessel. The current captain was Clarence Worley, a twenty-five year old American with short, dark hair and blue eyes. He was a small but well-built man. He had been at sea for the better part of a decade, but this was only his second trip as captain of the _Valkyrie_. The hold was loaded with supplies, including tools and food. The crew was made up of two other men, who unbeknownst to Clarence, had loaded the hold with cargo of their own.

They sailed at noon. The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly. The sea was calm. Rose hardly noticed she was on a boat. Although nervous at first, once they were aboard, excitement took over. Laughing, she grabbed Jack's hand and ran along the deck. "It's hard to imagine the ocean can look like this," she said, leaning against the railing. The wind blew her hair back. It was shorter than it had ever been, but it wasn't quite the bob that was in fashion. Jack leaned next to her. "Yeah, it is," he said. "And I bet it's warm, too."

"We should go swimming—right when we arrive," Rose said. "I don't care if it's midnight. We should just leave our things on the beach and run into the water!"

"We'll do it," he said. "Clothes and all."

Rose smiled flirtatiously. "Who said anything about clothes?"

Jack feigned offense. "Really, Miss, I can't believe you would say such a thing—" He half-heartedly resisted as she pulled him closer. "In public, Miss?" he said as she kissed him. She giggled. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers. "Happy?" he asked.

She nodded. "Very. I'm glad you talked me into this trip. I don't know if you could tell, but I was nervous about spending so much time on boats."

"You were?" he teased. "I didn't even notice. You were so calm when we got on the ship in New York."

"And I suppose you felt nothing, no doubts or unpleasant memories?"

In fact, Jack had been very nervous as they boarded the ship, but he did his best to hide it. His stomach was in knots, and his heart raced. For the first two days, he couldn't sit still; he couldn't sleep, and he barely ate. Rose was in an even worse state. She jumped at every sound, sure something awful had happened. It took everything he had to convince her to go out on deck. At the sight of the water, she clung to him. Swallowing his own rising panic, Jack did his best to convince her they were safe.

Now, they were in warmer waters, with much shorter trip ahead of them. The boat was small, but it was reliable. Its four lifeboats were more than enough for everyone onboard, but as he kept saying to Rose, why would they need them?

…..

"Is everything ready?" The speaker, a tall, wiry man with a thick mustache, dark blonde hair and grey eyes surveyed the small hold.

"Yeah, it's ready," replied a second man. This one was shorter, with thinning dark hair, dark eyes, and a build like a barrel.

"Good," said the first man. "We're leaving in a few minutes. Make sure  
Worley doesn't come down here."

"You think he's getting suspicious?"

"No, and I wanna keep it that way. Go on to your post, Smith, and don't do anything until I give the signal."

"Right."

Thomas Peters smiled, his grey eyes twinkling with glee. The plan was going off perfectly.

….

Samantha carefully removed her hat. Her hair was perfect, not a strand out of place. She smiled, pleased with her reflection. Her blue eyes were bright. Her skin was smooth and fair with just a hint of color in her cheeks. Her lips were a little thin, but a bit of lipstick helped with that. She was particularly fond of her neck. She liked to say it wore jewels well, but given the size of the jewels, it might have been more accurate to say they wore her. She smoothed the skirt of her traveling suit before getting up. Cal was in the common room, and he would be expecting her.

It was only their second trip together, which was remarkable considering they had been married nearly four years. But the businesses needed Cal's attention, especially after the war, and Samantha was happy to remain at home. After all, she was the Queen of Philadelphia society.

He glanced up from his newspaper when she came in. At forty-two, he was still handsome. His hair hadn't begun to grey or thin. His build was still good. Overall, the years had barely touched him. It was his looks and smooth way of flirting that had won Samantha just as much as his millions. There were lots of girls who liked him, but she genuinely loved him. Being married to her was both pleasant and odd. She was perfectly agreeable. She did anything he asked without question. She planned lavish parties, was a fashion plate, charmed his business associates—in short, she was everything his wife was supposed to be. And yet sometimes, Cal found himself wanting something more, although what that would be he didn't know. Since marrying Samantha he had found himself thinking of Rose. At idle moments his thoughts would turn to her. She hadn't been agreeable at all. She had been exasperating, impossible to impress or control. And yet, deep down he suspected the challenge she had posed had been a substantial part of her appeal. With Rose, he had had to work for every smile, every word, and they were always given grudgingly. With Samantha, things were almost too easy.

"Hello, darling," she said, taking the chair next to his. Cal gave her a small smile of acknowledgement. "I trust the cabin is acceptable?" he said.

She nodded. "It's rather small, but I suppose that's to be expected. It doesn't matter anyway; we'll be on the island by morning."

"You informed the staff about our arrival?"

"Of course. The house will be open and ready when we arrive." Samantha looked around the room, taking in the handful of tables and chairs. "Are we the only passengers on board?"

Cal's focus had returned to the newspaper. "There's another couple, maybe two," he said.

"They're going to the island as well? Do we know them?"

Cal shook his head. "They're not our sort of people."

….

"Is it just us?" Rose asked. They strolled along the deck, hands clasped.

"Besides the guys runnin' the boat, I think so," Jack replied. "There were supposed to be two other couples, but I guess they didn't show up. Or they're hiding," he joked.

"So, we have the boat to ourselves then?"

Jack eyed her curiously. "Basically," he said. He knew the look in her eyes well. In twelve years it had never cease to excite him. Their relationship had always been good, all respects. They were always friends; they were always kind to one another, even they fought. Neither had ever intentionally tried to hurt the other. They had argued, disagreed, and debated, but they rarely yelled. Since the end of the War, they had grown closer, if that was possible. This was their first trip in three years, and the first to take them outside the U.S. The War had put a temporary end to their plans to see the world.

Rose wrapped her arms around his neck. "Do you remember that thing we talked about?" she said. He nodded, instantly knowing exactly what she was referring to. "I think we should do it," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes. I've been thinking about it. I want to."

His hands rested on her waist. "Are you sure?" he asked. "It's a pretty big decision."

"I know, but I think it will be good. We can do it. Don't you think so?"

"Actually, yeah, I do," he said. He had thought about it more than once since they had last discussed it and had realized he wanted Rose to bring it up again. He didn't want to sound too eager or like he was trying to push her into it.

Rose smiled. "So, we're going to do it?"

"I think we are," he said.

A new energy buzzed between them. Rose tilted her head up and kissed him. "I'm glad," she murmured. She kissed him eagerly, laughing in between each one. "Excited?" he said.

"Aren't you? Jack, this is—this will change our lives forever."

"I know," he said. "That's why we have to be sure. It has to be the right time."

"I can't think of a better time," Rose said. She pulled him down into another kiss. "You know, we've got a whole room of our own," Jack said. "We don't have to stand outside."

"Or at all," she said mischievously.

He grinned. "Or at all."

In the twelve years they had been together, not once had a week gone by when they didn't make love, aside from the time they spent apart during the War. They always slept next to each other, even when they fought. The years had not dimmed their attraction. It seemed to have grown stronger as their relationship had grown deeper.

They shed their clothes quickly, not caring where they landed. They fell onto the bed, a tangle of hands and kisses. Nothing else existed; they were in a world alone.

….

Rose lay her head on Jack's chest. She snuggled closer to him and curled an arm around him. He held her, his hands resting on her back. They drifted off, lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat.

…

"You ready?" Thomas demanded, taking a quick look around. He pulled a gun from his pocket. It was heavy and solid in his hands; he liked the way it felt almost as much as he liked the way it made him feel.

"I'm ready," Smith replied, giving his own gun an affectionate pat.

"You deal with Worley. I'll round up the passengers."

"How many we got to deal with? Six?"

"Four. So, this'll be even easier than we thought. Two women and two men."

….

The sky was beginning to fill with black clouds; the sun was growing dim. The water had become choppy. Clarence studied the rapidly changing weather with growing unease. They were in for a storm. But it had come out of nowhere; all the reports had called for calm seas. He shook his head. It was useless to try and predict what the ocean would do. He should have known better than to put any stock in the weather report.

…

A loud _crack_ woke Rose. She lay still for a moment, unsure what she had heard. It was dark, and the boat's rocking was aggressive. Next to her, Jack slept on, undisturbed. She raised her head and looked through the porthole. It was raining steadily. Overhead, there was a sound like pounding footsteps and voices. They didn't sound pleasant.

"Jack," she whispered, shaking him.

"Yeah?" he mumbled. "What is it?" He didn't open his eyes. She shook him again. "Jack, something is wrong," she said.

"What?" He opened his eyes. Blinking against the darkness, he sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she said. "Something has happened." Fear shone in her eyes.

"How do you know? How long were we asleep?"

"I'm not sure. There's a storm coming. I heard something, voices, running—maybe a gunshot."

He was instantly alert. "A gunshot? Are you sure?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "But it sounded like one. Maybe it wasn't. Jack, something just doesn't feel right."

"I'll go check it out." He climbed out of the bed and dressed quickly, despite the darkness. She followed his lead. "You're gonna stay here," he said.

"No, I'm coming with you." She slipped into her shoes. The unmistakable _crack_ of a gunshot ripped through the air overhead. "You're not," Jack insisted. "You're gonna stay here. Lock the door and don't go anywhere. Don't open it unless it's me." He reached into his art supply bag and pulled out the knife he used to sharpen pencils. "Keep this," he said, putting it into her hand. "You won't need it, but hold onto it, alright?"

"Jack, no—"

"Rose, yes. Don't fight me. Please." He kissed her forehead. "I won't be long."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, read, is following, and etc this story! I hope you like this chapter.**

Samantha was still in the common room when she heard the shots ring out. She froze, book in hand. Rain pounded on the deck outside. Cal was in their cabin; he had gone down for a nap barely an hour ago. Should she go and see what had happened, or should she stay where she was? She listened intently, but she only heard the rain. Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe it hadn't even been a gunshot. Still she found herself setting her book aside and moving slowly toward the door.

….

Jack walked quickly, his eyes taking in everything around him; it was as though a switch had been flipped in his head, and his military training had taken over again. There were two floors within the boat, the hold below, and the common room and crew area, including the bridge, above deck. The passengers' cabins were on the first floor, along with the galley. The cabins were on the outside, and the galley was in the middle. The whole level was a big square, with stairs leading up or down at each end.

Jack kept his hands up; he rounded the corner carefully, keeping his body tense and ready to spring. The silence wasn't peaceful. It was eerie. It reminded him of the War, of the times just before a battle or a surprise attack. The air was heavy with the violence to come.

When he reached a set of stairs he went up. It was silent at first, but as he moved closer to the bridge, he began hearing a loud _thump thump_. It sounded like a body being thrown against a wall. Slowly, Jack reached out and grasped the handle of the door that led into the bridge. He swung it open, fist held high, ready to strike. He could only stare at the sight before him. The captain lay on the floor, his hands and feet bound, a gag in his mouth.

He glanced around the room before stepping inside. Jack dropped to his knees and began untying Clarence. "What happened?" he asked, removing the gag.

"Smith and Peters," Clarence spat. "The sonsabitches—Smith, he pulled a gun and tied me up. He shot two holes in the wall."

"Where is he now?"

"I dunno. Just left a few minutes ago. I've been kicking the door trying to get someone's attention."

"Yeah, we heard the shots," Jack said. "This Peters guy, you know where he is?"

Clarence shook his head. "If I had to guess I'd say they split up, one of 'em taking on you lot, and the other coming after me."

Jack's mouth thinned with worry. "You think they both have guns?" he asked.

"Probably. They'd be pretty stupid to try something like this if they don't," Clarence replied. "But I have a couple too," he added, crossing over to a locked cupboard. "You ever handle a gun?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jack said shortly. Clarence handled him a .45. "Well, I can tell by your face you're going after them," he said. "Right?"

Jack nodded. "I am," he said. He turned the gun over in his hands. It was hard and cold. It didn't fit naturally into his hands; he didn't like holding it, but he knew he stood a much better chance with it than without. "Any idea where we should start?" Jack asked, tucking the gun into the back waistband of his pants.

"Let's start with the hold," Clarence said. "Smith said something about it, and they've been acting strange all well, not wanting me down there. I just thought they were being territorial. I just got this job a few weeks ago. I don't really know these guys that well."

"You know if they're violent?"

"Smith, he's the shorter one, he's probably the least threatening of the two. Peters—that's Thomas Peters, he's the big guy. He's the boss; he's the one you should worry about."

….

Rose stared at the door, turning the knife over in her hands. Her mouth was dry, and her feet kept tapping nervously. He should have been back. If nothing was wrong, wouldn't he be back? His voice echoed in her ears. "Stay here." But how could she just sit and wait, knowing something could have happened to him? She hadn't just sat and waited during the War, had she? She ignored the voice of reason telling her the situation was different, the risks were different.

She opened the door a crack and peeked out. Quickly, she moved through the empty hallway; when she reached the stairs, she went up.

The common room could only be reached from the deck. There were doors on each end and windows on the other two sides. Rain fell in sheets; the boat rocked and bounced on the aggressive sea. Rose held fast to the railing as she made her way to the door. Thunder rumbled in the distance. As she stepped into the room, the boat gave a lurch, sending her to her knees. The door slammed shut behind her. "What the hell was that?" a male voice yelled. Rose scrambled to her feet as Thomas came toward her. Behind him, stood a terrified Samantha.

Rose kept her expression blank. She held the knife behind her back and looked into his eyes. His mouth curled into a leer. "Well, I don't have to go looking for you after all," he said. His eyes moved over her, taking in her wet dress and disheveled hair. "What are the odds of two such good looking women on a boat this size?" he said, more to himself than to her. Rose's features hardened into a glare. "Who are you?" she said coldly.

She remained still as he moved toward her. "That's not important right now," he said. "Let's just say we're gonna be friends, that way I don't have to hurt you. Why don't you tell me where the men are?"

Samantha could only watch, frozen. She wanted to run for the door, but she didn't think she could make it. She couldn't believe her eyes when Thomas reached for Rose's arm, and she punched him square in the jaw. He stumbled backwards, reeling from the blow. Rose stood firmly, feet planted slightly apart, ready to swing again. "You bitch!" he hissed. He lunged toward her, his features contorted with rage. She bent down and swung, landing a fist against his stomach. He gasped for air; pain shot through him. As she started to move past him, he grabbed her hair. He jerked her head back and slammed her against the wall.

Rose let out a cry of pain. He brought his face close to hers. "Cute," he scoffed. "You think you're tough, sweetheart?" Rose spit in his face. Shocked, he let go of her hair. She slipped past him and ran to Samantha. Grabbing her arm, Rose pulled her toward the door.

"I don't think so!" he yelled. He tried to grab Rose but only got her dress. She whipped around and plunged the knife into his hand. Thomas let out a howl. She shoved Samantha out the door. They ran through the rain and down the stairs. "In here," Rose said, pulling her into the galley.

"Why in here? Shouldn't we—"

"More weapons," Rose said briskly. She began pulling knives from a wooden block. "Here," she said, handing one to Samantha. She closed Jack's knife and tucked it into the bodice of her dress. "I—I can't use this," Samantha argued.

"Hold onto it and hope you won't have to use it." Rose took an iron skillet down from the rack. She tested its weight in her hands. "This should do."

"For what? Are you going to…hit him again?"

"If I have to. Do you know if he's the only one?"

"No. I don't know." Samantha's head spun. "Who are you? Who was he?"

"Rose. Are you alone?"

"My husband is in our cabin; he's sleeping. Did you hear the gunshots?"

"Yes," Rose said. "Let's go wake him up. Hold that knife up. Make it look like you'll use it."

"How do you know—" Samantha's voice was a mix of fear, confusion, and awe. "Where did you learn—You _hit_ him!"

"Twice, actually," Rose said, a note of pride in her tone.

"You hurt him," Samantha pointed out. "Where did you learn to do something like that?"

"My husband taught me. Come on, we need to go."

"Your husband?" Samantha was incredulous. "Why?"

"So I could defend myself," Rose explained. "We don't have time for this. Which cabin is yours?"

"Two."

"So, you're on this side. Come on," Rose said again, more insistently. She pulled her toward the door. Placing a finger over her lips, she opened it and slowly looked out. No sign of Thomas or anyone else. Where was Jack? She pushed away her worry. "Let's go," she whispered. "Get out your key."

Samantha held tightly to Rose as they hurried to her room. Her hands trembled as she unlocked the door. Rose closed it softly and locked it. She flicked on the light.

"Samantha?" Cal said, his voice thick with sleep. He squinted against the sudden brightness. "What are you—" His brow furrowed, first in confusion and then in shock. Before he could finish speaking, Rose said, "We need to find the others. Do you have anything that could be used as a weapon?" It was clear her words were addressed to Cal. "Or any actual weapons, perhaps?"

Cal shook his head, dumbfounded by her matter-of-factness. "You should come with us anyway," she said. Without a word, Cal put on his jacket and shoes. He smoothed back with hair. He didn't know why, but he couldn't disobey Rose's orders. There was something regal about her; she was so in control of herself. He had no idea what was going on, but she seemed to not only know, but also to know what should be done.

Rose turned to Samantha. "Keep that knife up," she said. Obediently, Samantha raised her arm. Cal could only stare at his wife as she brandished a kitchen knife like some kind of warrior. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rose cut him off again. "You should stay in the back," she said, indicating him with a tip of her head.

….

At that moment, Jack and Clarence found themselves sifting through the contents of the hold. "These aren't supposed to be here," Clarence said, moving to the far corner, where several stacks of black crates stood. He pulled on the lid of one and was surprised when it came off easily. "They're not sealed," he noted. "Someone wanted easy access."

"What's in it?" Jack asked.

"Money." Clarence reached into the crate and pulled out a stack of crisp bills. Jack whistled. "How much do you think is in there?" he said.

"Thousands?" Clarence speculated. "I don't know. Let's check the others."

They quickly opened and inspected the contents of the other crates. In all, there were ten black crates. Five contained money, all crisp, bound twenties. Three contained clothes and supplies. Two contained guns and ammunition.

"So, this is what they didn't want me to see," Clarence said. He rocked back onto his heels and looked up at Jack. "What do you think we should do?" he asked.

"Let's get back upstairs," Jack replied. "That's where they have to be."

…

Jack and Clarence were coming up the stairs as Rose's group came down the hallway. Jack broke into a run when he saw them. "Rose!" he cried. "What're you doing?"

"I couldn't just wait," she explained. He gave her a curious look. "Is that a skillet? And a kitchen knife?" he asked, slightly amused.

"It was the best I could fine," she replied. "I needed something bigger."

He took in her soaked, ripped dress. "What happened?" he asked, forgetting everyone else and reaching for her. "I'll explain later," she said. His gaze moved past her and landed on Cal and Samantha. Cal watched their exchange, obviously puzzled by what was going on. Samantha stood stiffly, as if bracing for an attack, the knife clutched in her raised fist. "You handed out weapons," Jack said.

"I had to," she answered. "Jack, there's a man—"

"There's two," he interrupted. Clarence stepped forward. "What did he look like?" he asked. "Was he tall?"

Rose nodded. "With a mustache."

"That's Thomas," Clarence said to Jack.

"What's happening?" Cal demanded, suddenly finding his voice. Ignoring him, Rose said to Clarence. "They're trying to take over the boat, aren't they?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm gonna go check the bridge again. One of them's gotta be there."

"I'll stay here," Jack said. Clarence nodded. "Right. You come with me," he ordered, turning to Cal.

"Now, wait, how dare—"

"Just go," Samantha said forcefully. Cal gaped at her. There was fear in her eyes, but something else as well. "Go," she said, softer this time. "We're not safe, and something has to be done."

"Right. Of course," Cal said quietly. He followed Clarence up the stairs.

"Alright, we'll go back up to the common room," Jack said. The boat gave a violent lurch that sent them tumbling into the wall. "Why?" Samantha asked, once they were on their feet again.

"The storm's getting worse. If the boat turns over we'll be trapped down here," Rose explained. Samantha's heart skipped a beat. "Trapped?" she said shakily. "You—you mean, the boat could sink?" She looked from Jack to Rose.

"It won't," Jack said reassuringly. "The storm'll pass pretty soon, and we'll be on the island." He gave her hand a quick squeeze and offered a smile. She looked into his eyes. "It's gonna be alright," he said. "Let's get upstairs." He glanced at Rose, and she nodded in agreement. They began walking, with Jack taking the lead, Samantha in the middle and Rose in the back.

Rose had only climbed a few steps when she felt herself being grabbed. A vise-like grip clamped down on her arm, and she fought not to be pulled back. A large hand encircled her neck. She let out a scream. "Jack!"

Thomas held her against him with one arm; he reached into his pocket with his free hand. Jack and Samantha spun around as Thomas pressed the barrel of a gun against Rose's cheek


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate them. I hope you like this one!**

Rose couldn't breathe. She felt the cold steel of the gun against her cheek, the heard grip of Thomas's arm around her, and his fingers digging into her skin, but none of felt quite real. It was as if she were outside her body, watching the scene play out from somewhere safe and faraway. She saw the fear flash through Jack's eyes and the anger that replaced it. Samantha was behind him now, her hands pressed to her mouth. Rose watched Jack inch forward. His eyes were fixed on Thomas, waiting for him to move. To speak. To do _something_.

"Don't come any closer," Thomas yelled, squeezing Rose harshly. She yelped. He kept the gun firmly pressed to her cheek. "Don't you move either," he hissed.

Jack seemed to be moving in slow motion. She saw him reaching back, but for what? His jaw was set. His back was straight. Rose recognized his look as that of a solider going into battle. She knew the War hadn't been easy for him, but she didn't know just how difficult it had been or how deeply it had affected him. He rarely talked about it, and when he did he only told light stories, downplaying the medals he had been given. He preferred she tell stories of nursing on the battlefields.

Rose gasped as she realized what he was reaching for. A split second later, the same realization hit Thomas. He pointed the gun at Jack. Jack pushed Samantha to the floor. "Get down!" he yelled, throwing himself onto her. Rose seized her chance and twisted out of Thomas's grip. She ducked down as he fired. The bullet hit the stairs. "Stay down," Jack ordered. Samantha pressed herself against the floor. Her heart beat wildly; her hands trembled. It couldn't all really be happening, could it? Everything was happening so quickly. She watched in horror as Rose began to run, only to be stopped by a well-aimed blow from Thomas. The barrel of his gun collided with the back of her head; it made a sickening _thwunk_.

A blinding pain filled Rose's head. She couldn't remember where she was. Someone was screaming. It sounded like Jack. She couldn't fight as she was thrown over Thomas's shoulder. Was she moving? Her stomach lurched. The boat was rocking on the waves, but for her everything was spinning. She forced her eyes open and saw Jack, his gun drawn. He wore an expression she had never seen before. Had he been anyone else, it would have been terrifying. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Or maybe it did. She wasn't sure. The roar of a gunshot filled the hallway again. Samantha covered her eyes and began to cry quietly.

Thomas sped up. There was another shot; the bullet grazed his arm. He howled but didn't lose his grip on Rose. Jack fired again. This time, it took off part of his ear. Thomas screamed, a mix of fear and pain thickening his voice. He stumbled, flopping Rose's limp body onto the floor. As Jack ran toward them, he recovered enough to point his gun at her. "Don't," he snarled. "Don't you fucking dare. I'll kill her."

Jack knew he meant it. He remained still, gun drawn, waiting for an opportunity to fire again. All he needed was one clear show. There was no doubt in his mind that he could do it. It wouldn't be the first time.

"That's more like it," Thomas said. He kept his eyes on Jack and his gun on Rose as he backed toward the stairs. "Follow, and she's dead," he threatened. With that, they disappeared from sight.

Jack stood frozen, unable to accept what had just taken place. How could he have let that happen? Why hadn't he moved faster? Shot straighter? It had been a risk even taking a shot with Rose so close, but he was sure he wouldn't hit her. He jumped, startled by Samantha's hand on his arm. She shrank back, as if expecting a blow.

"I forgot you were there," he said, letting out his breath.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"We?"

"I'm helping," she insisted. "Just tell me the plan."

"No, that's too dangerous. Just go back—"

Samantha lifted her chin. A quiet strength burned in her eyes. "She helped me," she said. "I have to do the same for her."

….

While that was going on, Cal and Clarence were fighting the storm to get to the bridge. It was raining even harder, which made walking across the deck nearly impossible. Lightning crashed all around them. They held to each other's arms in an effort to not get lost or swept overboard. Finally, they reached the bridge. There, they found Smith, desperately trying to control the boat. He didn't even notice when they came in.

Clarence motioned for Cal to sneak up on Smith from behind. And a few seconds later, it was all over. Cal pinned his arms to his sides, and Clarence pointed a gun at him. Smith's eyes widened with shock and fear. He twitched, as though about to fight back, but a click of Clarence's gun stopped him. "On the floor," Clarence commanded. "Hands up." To Cal he said, "Tie him up. I'm gonna try and get us back on course."

"Can you do that in this storm?" Cal asked.

"There's a chance, but the best I'll probably manage is getting us closer to where we're supposed to be," Clarence replied. "What the storm didn't do, this weasel did." He gave Smith a light kick in the leg. "Where did you think you were going?" he demanded. Smith just glared at him sullenly. "We already found you stuff," Clarence added. "I know you were trying to run somewhere. What'd ya do? Rob a bank?"

"I'm not tellin you anything," Smith muttered.

"Have it your way," Clarence said. "We'll figure it out eventually." He turned to Cal. "You watch him." Cal just nodded.

….

As Thomas dragged her down the stairs to the hold, Rose began to recover slightly. She kicked wildly, but there was no real strength behind it. She tried to twist out of his grip, but her best efforts were useless. Ignoring the pain in her head, she screamed angrily and swung her fists, hoping to land a decent punch.

He grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the floor. She landed on the edge of a crate. A sharp pain filled her lungs, and she struggled to breathe. The next thing she knew, he had grabbed her again. He flopped her onto her back, pressing her against the crate. He hovered over her, his knees against her legs. Blood dripped from the wounds on his ear and arm. His face was a mask of cold fury. The control he had lost before was now being regained.

Rose forced her features into a First Class sneer. She couldn't see the gun, but that didn't matter. She knew he could kill her with his bare hands if he wanted to. She knew she didn't have the strength to fight back. With a sinking heart, Rose realized he didn't intend to kill her—at least not yet. Where was Jack? It felt like she had been pinned against the crate for hours. Why hadn't he come yet?

….

Everything was moving too fast for Samantha. Jack had instructed her to stay behind him. "No matter what happens," he said. "Stay back. If I go down, he's going with me. Get Rose and get out. Understand?"

She nodded. "Get Rose and get out."

"I don't matter, got it? She does," he said, softening his tone slightly.

The boat swayed back and forth as they raced down the stairs. She held her knife up. Jack's gun was drawn. It was over before Samantha knew what happened. She saw Rose's legs; one show was missing. Her dress was torn even more. She saw Thomas's back and understood he was pinning her down. Jack's yell ripped through the air. His foot slammed into Thomas's stomach. With a loud groan, Thomas collapsed onto the floor. Remembering Jack's instructions, Samantha ran forward and gathered Rose into her arms.

Rose's skin was cold. She was limp, like a ragdoll. Her eyes closed, and her face was pale. Samantha covered her as best she could, despite the torn skirt. Rose's eyes fluttered open, but she didn't see Samantha. "Jack?" she whispered hoarsely.

"He's coming," Samantha said, trying to sound reassuring. She flinched at the sound of Jack's foot hitting Thomas's face. It wasn't a fight at all. Jack's anger eclipsed anything Thomas had in him. Finally, Jack stopped. His breathing was heavy; beads of sweat covered his forehead. Thomas was curled up in a ball in a vain effort to protect himself. He groaned loudly as Jack lifted him roughly by his arms. He looked at Jack through half-closed eyes. Jack stared at him for a long moment before throwing him down. Thomas offered no resistance as he was tied up.

Jack's knuckles were bruised; one of them was swelling. He wiped blood onto his pants as the realization of what had just happened sank in. Shame washed over him. How could he have let himself lose control like that? He hand' even known such violence was in him before the War. Now, he was always aware of it, afraid something might set him off again. And now something had.

The boat gave a lurch, bringing him back to the present. "Rose." He dropped to his knees next to her. Gently, he took her into his arms. She felt lighter than he remembered. "Rose," he said, stroking her face. She murmured something unintelligible. Samantha was transfixed by him. The look of pure love in his eyes was something she had never seen. No-one had ever looked at her like that. Nothing existed but the woman in his arms. She couldn't help but feel jealous. Cal would never look at her like that, and he would never save her like that. At best, he would send someone else to do it.

The boat gave another lurch. "We've gotta get out of her," Jack said. "C'mon." He scooped Rose up and followed Samantha back up to the deck. 

"Hang onto something!" he yelled as the rain and rocking boat threatened to send them overboard. He held Rose as best he could while clinging to the railing, slowly making his way to the common room door.

Shivering, Samantha dropped into a chair, arms wrapped around herself. The boat was swaying violently from side to side now. "Try to stay balanced," he said. "Find something to hold onto." He held Rose against his chest with one hand and held a window frame with the other, doing his best to remain on his feet. He tried no to hurt her any further. "Rose, you gotta wake up," he said. "C'mon, open your eyes."

She began to stir. "Jack!" she called fearfully.

"I'm right here," he assured her. Her eyes opened slightly. "Look at me," he said. "Keep your eyes open."

"I'm so tired," she said weakly. "And my head hurts…"

"I know, but you gotta stay awake," he insisted. "Rose, I know it's hard, but you can do it. Fight, Petal, for me."

Just then the door opened and Cal burst in, followed by Clarence, who drug the tied-up Smith behind him. "You find Thomas?" Clarence asked. "What happened to her?"

"He's tied up downstairs," Jack replied. "She got hurt."

Cal went over to Samantha and laid a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him as if she didn't know him before turning away. Any other time, he would have demanded an explanation, but too much had happened. He just stood, unable to speak.

"I tried to get us back on course," Clarence said. "But with the storm, I couldn't do very much. To be honest, I don't really know where we are."

"How long do you think the storm'll last?" asked Jack.

"The rest of the night? Through tomorrow?" Clarence speculated. "I don't know, and I don't know where we'll be when I ends."

Cal fell backwards as the boat gave another violent lurch. He looked up, suddenly noticing he was the only one not clinging to something. "Could have told me," he muttered, annoyed.

"All you had to do was look around," Samantha snapped. He gaped at her. Clarence grinned. Jack chuckled quietly. Even Rose managed a smile, but her eyes were starting to close again. "Stay awake," Jack said, holding her head up.

"She hit her head?" Clarence asked.

Jack nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Look at me, Petal. Talk to me."

Her voice was weak. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. What's nine times nine?"

"Eighty-one."

"Right. Eight times four?"

"Thirty-two."

"The square root of sixteen?"

"Four."

"Good girl."

Her eyes were less glassy, but she was clearly still feeling the effects of the attack. "It hurts when I breathe," she said.

"Your ribs might be bruised," he said, hoping that was all it was. With the boat's erratic movements he didn't feel safe trying to check them. The storm showed no sign of ending; if anything, it was getting even worse.

"We might capsize," Clarence pointed out. He looked at Jack.

"I know," Jack replied. "Any ideas?"

"I was thinking, maybe we should go outside…" he trailed of.

"Yeah, I thought about that," Jack said. "But we might all go overboard for nothing."

"There's the boats," Cal said. They all stared at him, shocked by the sound of his voice.

"We'd definitely capsize in one of those," Clarence explained. "We wouldn't have a chance."

"So, what are we supposed to do?" Cal demanded. "Wait to drown?"

Samantha rested her head on her free hand. "Be quiet," she said. "Let them handle this. They know what they're doing." Cal couldn't believe his ears. Not once had she ever spoken to him that way. Not once had she ever questioned his judgment or decisions. He told himself it was the stress of the situation making her act that way, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Hang on," Clarence said. He forced the door open and went outside, returning a few minutea later with rope and five life preservers. "We'll tie 'em together," he said. "Everybody take one."

Jack also tied himself to Rose, looping the rope around their hips, careful to avoid her ribs. There was just enough space in one ring for them both, so he didn't bother with two. She forced a smile. "At least I'm with you," she whispered. "I think we're bad luck for boats." She laughed weakly. "Maybe someone's trying to tell us something."

"With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven/Coveted her and me," Jack replied. She nodded. Her eyes began to close. "Next line," he said. "Rosepetal, open your eyes."

"And this was the reason that, long ago/In this kingdom by the sea," she said.

"That's my girl." And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I'm really glad people are liking this story. I'm having a lot of fun writing it.**

Hours passed with little conversation. From time to time, Clarence ventured outside to see if there was any sign of the storm letting up and to try getting the boat back on course. The best he could do was to steer it back in the general direction it was supposed to be going in. The longer the storm went on, and the further off-course they drifted, the less sure he became that he could get them where they were supposed to go when it finally did end. He hoped he would be able to figure out where they were when it ended, but if they were just somewhere in the ocean, it might be impossible given how primitive the boat's navigational tools were. At least they had plenty of supplies. They could roam around for a little while, looking for somewhere to dock. Around dawn, he thought the storm was finally ending, but it was only a brief slackening. Minutes later, it was building again. The sun was invisible behind the black clouds. He was about to go back inside when a flash of lightning filled the sky, making it bright as day. Horror washed over him as he saw what lay ahead. Jagged rocks, for at least half a mile, and what appeared to be a beach, though he couldn't be sure.

They all looked up, startled as he burst through the door. "Get outside!" he yelled. "Untie him—you gotta jump!"

"Where are you going?" Cal called as Clarence ran toward the bridge. "I gotta try to steer us away from it," he yelled without stopping.

"C'mon," Jack said, herding them outside. Lighting flashed again, and they saw the danger that lay ahead. "Are you going to untie him?" Samantha asked. Jack looked through the door at the bound Smith, curled up on the floor. "Yeah, go ahead," he said. "Give 'im a chance." Quickly, Samantha cut through the ropes and ran back outside.

"You aren't going to do the same for the other one?" Cal asked, somewhat sarcastically.

"I'm more worried about us," Jack said. "And who knows what he'd do?" It was wrong; he knew it was wrong. But what choice did he have? There wasn't time to go and free Thomas, even if he wanted to. They only had a minute, maybe two, before they needed to jump. There were three lives in his hands. For a moment, it was just like being in the War again, with so many eyes on him and so many people depending on him to make the right decision. He couldn't fail them.

No-one noticed Smith hurry past them and down the stairs.

"We're gonna have to jump," Jack said. "Get over to the railing and get ready."

"Jump?" Cal cried. "Are you crazy?"

"Maybe," Jack replied. "But it's our only chance. Whatever Clarence is doing isn't working fast enough. We're gonna hit those rocks in a second." He glanced down at Rose. "I need you to swim, Rose." She nodded. "Take a deep breath and hold it when I say," he instructed. Ten seconds now. Five. Four. "Now!" he yelled. Two. "Jump!"

The water was colder than he'd expected. The life preserver barely kept them afloat. The churning water did its best to take them down. Jack was glad he had tied himself to Rose; he wasn't sure he could have held onto her with the help of the rope. They struggled to swim forward together, steering themselves toward an empty stretch of beach. As far as he could tell, Samantha was doing just fine on her own, but Cal was struggling to stay afloat. Jack reached out and grabbed his shirt. "Stay in the ring!" he yelled. "Let it keep you up; stop fighting it! Now, swim!"

Cal did his best, but he still arrived on the beach last. Samantha made it first. She crawled onto the sand, clawing at it; instinctively, she moved under the shelter of the trees. Jack and Rose washed up next, exhausted and breathless. Rose spit out the acrid water. Jack shrugged out of the life preserver and pulled it off of her. She collapsed against him. He half-carried her toward the trees.

"Are you alright?" he asked when they were safely seated on the sand. She breathed slowly and laboriously. Quickly, he untied the knots that held them together. "Lean back," he said, easing her down against the tree trunk. He felt around her ribs, careful not to press down. "Where does it hurt?"

"There."

"Anywhere else?"

She winced. "And there."

As dark as it was, he wouldn't have been able to see her properly, so he didn't bother taking off her dress to look. From what he felt, none of her ribs were broken. "How's your head?" he asked, scooting up next to her.

"I'm not dizzy anymore, but it still hurts." She lay her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her. "It was only supposed to be a few hours," she said. "Nothing was supposed to go wrong."

Just then, Cal washed up on the beach. Coughing and sputtering, he staggered to his feet. He found his own spot under the trees and collapsed. The clouds parted slightly, and the sun peeked through. They watched, horrified, as the boat crashed into the rocks.

"Clarence didn't get off," Samantha said sadly. Jack hugged Rose a little tighter. About a minute later they saw a head bobbing in the water, followed by arms paddling. "Yes, he did!" Rose cried. When he arrived, he joined them under the trees. They sat in silence and watched the storm slowly dissipate. Eventually, the sun came out.

…..

"We gotta go get the supplies," Clarence said. He studied the wrecked boat. It was lodged against the rocks. The hold looked like it was at least partially underwater, but he didn't think it was in danger of sinking. The real problem, as he saw it, was the risk of it being swept away by the tide or a large wave. No-one talked about where Thomas and Smith had ended up.

"We might as well go now," Jack said. "The longer we wait, the more unstable she'll be."

Cal watched their exchange, torn between fascination and indignation. How dare they exclude him? It was as if he didn't even exist; they consulted the women more than him. There was some sort of unspoken agreement between Jack and Clarence, a mutual respect for the other's skills and experience that he wasn't part of. Never in his adult life had Cal been treated as an inferior or dismissed as insignificant. He had always been acknowledge as, at the very least, the equal of everyone around him. To make matters worse, Samantha's attitude toward him didn't appear to be changing. She stood close to Rose and away from him. She ignored his glances and didn't respond when he spoke to her. The change in her was almost more jarring than being ignored by Jack and Clarence.

"I'll come too," Rose offered.

"So will I," Samantha said.

"No," Jack responded.

"We could use more help," Clarence pointed out. "It'll go a lot faster if they come with us." He glanced from Rose to Jack. "It should be fine; she'll probably hold for the rest of the day, maybe even through tomorrow. I saw a wreck like this a few years ago that held for almost a week."

"Please, let's not argue about it," Rose said to Jack. "I'm fine. I can help, and I want to."

Her eyes were brighter, and her cheeks weren't so pale, but he wasn't convinced. He wanted to tell her to go lie down in the shade and rest. He wanted to tell her to stay far away from any danger. He wanted to make her understand how afraid he had been for her, but he knew it wasn't the time. And on some level, she already knew. "You won't listen anyway," he said, giving up. "But you're gonna be careful."

No-one asked him to, but Cal followed along as they picked their way over the rocks. The boat was at an angle, with the bow tilted down. Slowly, they all climbed aboard. "So, we'll take the hold," Clarence said, nodding to Jack and Cal. "And you two'll take the rooms you can get to, alright?"

They moved quickly. Rose and Samantha gathered what they could from the upper rooms. There was a few feet of water in the rooms toward the front of the boat. "This brings back memories," Rose murmured as they waded through one of the cabins.

"What?"

"Nothing," Rose said. "It's not important."

"Rose," Samantha began, "How long do you think we'll be here?"

"I don't know," Rose answered. "I really don't. I don't even know where here is." Seeing the fear in the other girl's eyes, she added, "But someone should find us soon. People were expecting us, right?"

Samantha nodded. "Right."

They tied what they could into bundles, put things into bags, buckets, or whatever was handy. They carried each load outside and climbed partway off the boat and tossed it to the ground. The men hauled crates from the hold and, working together, managed to get each one to the ground. As she and Rose gathered an armful to take down, Samantha asked, "How long have you been together?"

"Twelve years," Rose said. "It seems longer than that, though."

"You're really—you have—you're good together," Samantha said awkwardly. She avoided Rose's eyes. What was she doing? She didn't know this woman. How could she presume to comment on her marriage? Yet part of her felt that she did know her. They had experienced something together, and Samantha felt safe with her.

Rose gave her a long, searching look. "Thank you," she said.

The hold was partially underwater. Large holes pierced either side. They worked quickly, without speaking. Guilt crept along Jack's spine as he saw the spot where Thomas had been. He wasn't there now. There was a chance he had survived, wasn't there? He hadn't killed him, had he? It wasn't as though they could have just let him go free. He'd had to carry Rose upstairs; he couldn't have taken both of them. _But you could have come back after him._

 _I had to take care of Rose._

 _Are you sure you aren't hiding behind her?_

Was he? But was it his responsibility to look after a man who would have killed them all? Who had hurt Rose? Who would have—Jack pushed the image away. No, he decided. He couldn't blame only himself. There were two others who could have gone after Thomas at any time. It wasn't up to him to do everything.

Soon, they emptied the boat of everything that could be carried easily, and the arduous process of carrying it all back to camp began. The sun beat down mercilessly. The sea was a deep turquoise, and the sand was a perfect white. After a few trips. Jack and Clarence kicked off their shoes and removed their shirts. Samantha watched, shocked, by the sight of them. She couldn't believe her eyes when Rose took off not only her shoes but her dress as well. She tore a strip from her skirt and used it to tie her hair back. She wore a pair of striped shorts, a slip, and bra. Samantha couldn't imagine wearing so little, and in front of other people, no less. Despite the heat, all she took off were her shoes and stockings. Cal kept everything on.

"We need to build a shelter," Clarence said.

"We need to find water," Rose added.

"We need to fish," Jack said.

They all looked at Samantha, as if waiting for her to make a suggestion. "Why don't we eat something first?" she said.

Cal hovered in the background, but Samantha was part of the group. They had taken her in completely. She helped gather wood and rocks for the first. She helped find long sticks for Clarence to carve into spears. "For catching fish," he explained. "It'll work for now."

They were all so much smarter than she was. How did Clarence know when to plunge the spear into the water? How did Rose know how to clean them? Her hands moved quickly, as if it were the easiest task in the world. How did Jack know how to light a fire that would burn so well? Where had he learned to fry fish? She found herself wanting to know all about their lives.

They sat on the sand and ate off of tin plates. They drank from a can of milk, except for Cal who refused to share. He demanded his own can, but no-one would open one for him, and he didn't have a knife.

….

"We've got plenty of rope," Clarence said. "And a whole box of tools. Plenty of nails. We should be able to rig up something." He held an axe out to Cal and picked up one for himself. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get started." Cal just stared at him. He looked at the axe as if he wasn't sure what it was. "Take it," Samantha said. He turned his gaze on her. "What?"

"Take it," she repeated.

"You wanna go find water?" Jack asked Rose. "Sure," she said. But they didn't move. They had to see happened next. Finally, Cal took the axe. He held it awkwardly. He looked at Samantha as though he wanted to say something but didn't.

Jack glanced at Rose. She nodded in response to his silent question. They turned and headed into the trees. "Samantha, are you coming?" Rose called.

"Me?"

"Who else? Come on!"

They had only gone a few steps, but an elated Samantha ran to catch up with them.

…..

It was a large island. If they walked all day they wouldn't reach the other side. Almost exactly opposite where they had landed, Thomas and Smith washed up, clinging to crates. They had been tossed about by the current. The storm was just ending when they crawled up the beach.

….

The trees were thick. They had to carve out a path for themselves. Every few feet Jack made a mark on the trunk of a tree. At first, they walked in silence. Samantha was comfortable in it. They weren't ignoring her. It wasn't the same silence they used on Cal. Briefly, she wondered how he was doing. He had never hauled crates or used an axe. But he could have tried a little more. He didn't have to be so stubborn and uncooperative. They couldn't expect everything to be done for them, could they? Hadn't enough been done for them already? For the first time, she began questioning the truths she had always taken for granted.

Rose wanted to speak, but she wasn't sure what to say. She knew Samantha was unhappy, but what could she do about it? How could anyone be happy married to Cal? "That could have been me," she murmured.

"What?" Jack said.

"Nothing."

He looked at her quizzically. "You still feeling alright?"

"Fine," she said cheerfully. It still hurt when she breathed, but he didn't need to know that. He would just worry, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. And didn't they have enough to worry about? She slipped her hand into his. He tried to be everything, especially to her. He didn't pretend or try to be someone he wasn't. It was more that he wanted to always be strong and capable, to still be the wise vagabond that had stolen her heart. He knew he was safe with her, but since the War, it had become harder and harder to get him to let his guard down, to get him to let her see him be vulnerable. She marveled at how young he looked. Except for his eyes. They were heavy with experience.

"Where are you from?" he asked Samantha. Of course he would start the conversation. He was always so good at making friends, at putting people at ease. It took effort not to love him. She could tell Samantha was a little in awe of him, maybe even a little in love with him already. But it didn't bother Rose.

"Pittsburgh," Samantha said. "Where are you from?"

Jack grinned at Rose. "Everywhere," she said. "We go from place to place."

"You mean you just travel? Constantly?"

Rose nodded. "That's right. Mostly."

Samantha blurted out. "Why?"

Jack laughed. "I don't think anyone's ever asked that." He shrugged. "We like it."

"Just yesterday we decided to stay out of the country for a while," Rose said. "See more of South America, maybe go even further. I suppose we got what we wanted," she added drily.

"Hey, listen," Jack said. "Hear that?" He went forward. The sound of the waterfall grew louder. He whooped excitedly. "We found water!" he yelled. He ran ahead. Rose shook her head, but she was smiling. "He's like a child sometimes," she said to Samantha's puzzled look. "The littlest things make him so happy. Though, we did need to find it." She didn't say how much his zest for life had rubbed off on her. He had taught her to find joy in the smallest things.

A moment later, they heard a loud splash. "Come on!" Jack yelled. "It's gorgeous!"

Rose ran toward his voice. The thick trees gave way to a clearing. A large pool was in the middle, filled with clear water. A waterfall poured down into it. Jack swam around happily. "Get in here!" he called, waving to her. Laughing, Rose dove in. She let out a short scream as she hit the water. Jack pulled her to him and kissed her.

Samantha stood at the edge of the clearing. For the moment, they had forgotten her. Sadly, she wondered if Cal had ever forgotten everyone else but her? No other man had existed for her since they met. At times, no other person had existed. But had she ever been the only person or even the only woman he saw?


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks for the comments, everyone! As to the detail the story is in, I'm glad that's not annoying. I wanted to make things believable.**

It took the rest of the day, but they managed to complete one hut. It had plenty of room for two or even three people to sleep comfortable. There was a place in the middle for a fire and a trapdoor in the roof to let in light and let out smoke. It had a door with a lock and hinges. Jack had made those. "I don't remember you ever being a carpenter," Rose said. "When did you do that?"

"My father taught me this," he explained. "I just never needed it until now." He held up a finished hinge. "It looks pretty good, doesn't it?" he said proudly. Rose kissed his hair as she got up. "It's wonderful," she said.

They filled buckets with fresh water and hauled them back to the campsite. A thirsty Cal finally gave in and accepted a cup. Working with Clarence had been awful, but when the others returned, things had gotten even wore. Cal couldn't seem to use the axe correctly. He was hot and irritated. His clothes were heavy. His shoes didn't move very well on the sand. He was sure they were laughing silently behind his back. He was in good shape; his body was fit and well-toned. But working out a few times a week in a private gym was nothing like working under the sun—and for an audience, no less.

They had come back with damp hair and clothes. Jack and Rose were annoyingly close to one another. Samantha looked calm and cheerful. For a moment, he was sure something had happened between the three of them. Cal wouldn't have been at all surprised if Jack had gotten them into the water—But no, he told himself, Samantha wouldn't do anything like that. She was a good girl and a good wife. The truth was, Cal tried to convince himself Jack had corrupted Rose, that he had seduced her away from him, but he didn't believe it. He hadn't thought about either of them in years, but now, looking at them again, a fresh burst of anger washed over him. How dare they just be happy and in love? They had broken the rules.

The others joined in the work, even Cal noted with surprise, the women. Why wasn't anyone objecting? Several times he almost did, but he knew they wouldn't take him seriously. Samantha was following Rose's lead. She trailed after her like a younger sister. She looked at Jack with admiration in her eyes, and it only changed slightly when she looked at Clarence. _She's supposed to look at_ _ **me**_ _the way_ , Cal fumed silently. For years, he had taken her admiration for granted. It was a given, like the rising of the sun each morning. Now that he felt it slipping away, he didn't know what to do.

"We don't have enough nets to make hammocks for everyone and still have enough for fishing," Clarence said. "Maybe we could try getting some of the beds off the boat. We could build a raft; that might make it easier."

"And we could use it to go around the island," Rose pointed out. "Maybe we aren't alone after all."

"Wouldn't that be funny?" Clarence said. "If there were people just a few miles away?"

"Yeah, and we spent weeks things it was just us," Jack added.

Cal couldn't believe his ears. What was wrong with them? How could they just accept the situation? Go on as if nothing had happened? Didn't they realize they were trapped on an island that was, despite what they said, almost certainly deserted? That no-one knew where they were? That they would probably spend the rest of their lives there? He looked over at Samantha, hoping to see some of his own panic mirrored in her, but it wasn't there.

….

They gave the hut to Cal and Samantha. None of the others minded sleeping outside. Clarence went down the beach in one direction; Jack and Rose went in the other.

Cal and Samantha stood awkwardly, facing each other. The trapdoor was open, letting in moonlight. "It was nice of them to give us the only hut," she said finally.

"It was the least they could do," Cal said sharply. "After all, they're used to these barbaric conditions. We aren't."

"You shouldn't talk about them like that," she said quickly. "They've done nothing but help us. Where would we be without them?"

"Where would we be?" he cried.

"Yes," she shot back. "Clarence caught the fist we ate. Jack built the fire. Rose cleaned them. The four of us built this hut. You've barely been any help all day!"

His shock gave way to indignation and then to anger. "Don't you talk to me that way!"

"Why not?" she snapped. "It's true. You weren't there when that man attacked me. And if you had been, what would you have done? If it was just you, no manservants to send in instead? Would you have been afraid? Rose wasn't."

"I wouldn't have been afraid," he said coldly.

"Would you have gone after me?" she pressed. "If I had been the one carried off? Would you have beaten him senseless and spent the rest of the night looking after me?"

"So, it's him," Cal spat. "You want me to be like him, is that it? He has to take away my wife as well?"

"What are you talking about?" She gasped, more from shock than pain, as he grabbed her by the arms. "I won't have it," he said, eerily calm. His eyes glowed with an intensity she had never seen before. "You are _my_ wife," he said. "And you will continue to be happy and grateful for that privilege." He gave her a quick shake. "Is that in any way unclear?"

….

The sky was a perfect blue-black. Stars twinkled brightly above them. Rose sighed happily and snuggled closer to Jack. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "This isn't so bad," she said.

"Yeah, you think so?"

"It's warm. We have food and water. Tools. Clothes. The island is beautiful. And we have each other. Things could be much worse."

They lapsed into silence. "You know, Rose," he said slowly. "I was really worried about you last night. When that guy—when the hit you…." Jack clenched his jaw.

"You don't have to talk about it."

"I do," he said. "I need to say this. Not a lot has happened to us. Our life's been pretty good, mostly, and I didn't appreciate that enough until now. It's been a long time since I was that scared for you…since you were in that kind of danger, and I wish I had done something to keep it from happening."

"What could you have done?"

"I dunno. I could've put you ahead of me. Not missed my shot." His arm tightened around her. "I can't stop thinking, what if I hadn't been there? If he'd…" Jack couldn't get the words out. "And you were hurt anyway."

"But you were there," she said gently. "And I'm fine now. Jack, please leave it alone. Don't torture yourself." She raised her head and looked down at him. "You can't do everything," she said. "It isn't up to you to save me, Jack, not from everything." She touched his face. "Sometimes you need to let me save you."

"I don't wanna talk about that," he said.

"You don't have to." She bent down and kissed him. He pulled her onto him; he pressed his hands against her back. They forgot that the others could walk up at any time; they forgot they might be overheard. They moved slowly, enjoying the familiar rhythms and patterns. Jack buried his face in her neck and guided her hips with his, pouring out everything he couldn't say.

….

They finished two more huts the next day. They got up at dawn and worked until they were done. Except for Cal. Samantha didn't wake him up. She slipped outside without looking at him. She worked with the others, falling into their conversations and the routine they were creating. When they finished, they ate quickly, devouring platefuls of fried fish and bananas. Samantha had never been so dirty in her life. Wet sand covered her legs. Sweat dripped down her back. Had she ever sweat this much before? Or even at all? Or been so hungry? A sense of accomplishment filled her; she had _done_ something; she had helped.

They bathed in the pool with their clothes still on. At first, Samantha hesitated. She had swam the day before, but this seemed different. She watched Jack and Rose laugh and splash one another. Clarence swam laps by himself. Before she had climbed slowly into the water, but now she let herself fall into it.

….

When Cal finally appeared, a fourth hut was being built. This one was in the center of the camp. The others were all within sight of one another but far enough apart so most sounds wouldn't be heard, giving a sense of privacy but not isolation. The latest hut was for the tools and supplies that hadn't been divided among them.

Jack glanced over his shoulder as Cal approached. He looked drugged. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty. Samantha pretended not to see him. "Afternoon," Clarence called. "Sleep well?" There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Cal just looked at him and grunted. He went over to the remnants of their cooking fire and began searching for food.

Clarence shook his head in disgust. "Who does he think he is?" he said, to no-one in particular. "He's barely done anything, and someone's had to push him the whole way."

Samantha lowered her gaze and continued with her task. She felt Cal's eyes on her back and wished she were invisible. Clarence was about to say something else when Jack stopped him with a look. "Leave it alone," he said quietly, motioning toward Samantha. Clarence's frown deepened as he looked at her. It wasn't her fault her husband was uncooperative. At least she seemed to grasp the severity of their situation.

"You're doin' good, Samantha," Clarence said. A small smile crept across her face. "I am?" she said.

"Yeah," he replied. "You really are."

Her smile widened, and he returned it. Jack and Rose exchanged glances, each knowing what the other was thinking.

….

Rose handed Samantha a bucket. "Let's explore," she suggested. Samantha eyed the bucket curiously. "Why do we need these?"

Rose shrugged. "We might find something we want to bring back. Fruit. Flowers. Who knows?"

Jack and Clarence were busy building the raft. According to Clarence's estimation, the boat would most likely last through one more tide. If they hurried, they could at least get the beds. Cal sat by the fire pit, scowling. He hadn't said a word to anyone since getting up.

"Is it safe?" Samantha asked when they reached the edge of the trees. "Going by ourselves?"

Rose wore a pair of Jack's pants that had been cut into shorts; her slip was tucked into them, and a belt held them up. Her feet were bare. Her hair was still tied back with the strip of skirt. A knife was tied to her belt. The sun was already turning her skin pink. To Samantha, still wearing nearly all of her pre-shipwreck outfit, she looked like she belonged on the island. She looked not only capable of surviving, but also, of being comfortable there. She had never seen a woman like Rose. "We won't go far," Rose assured her. "I'll mark the trail, and we'll keep an eye out for anything dangerous."

"Will they need us?"

"Who? Jack and Clarence? No," she said. "They can handle this on their own."

In fact, Jack and suggested she find a reason to get Samantha away from the rest of the group. It was obvious to both of them that she needed to talk to someone, and Rose was the better choice.

"You know how furious he'd be if I went off with her," Jack said. They were standing alone, far enough from the group to not be overheard.

"Since you put it that way, maybe you should do it," Rose said.

"C'mon—"

"He's driving everyone crazy," she pointed out. "You don't want to see him stop sulking? At least if he starts yelling we have a reason to confront him. I don't like the way we're all just ignoring him. It's giving the wrong impression."

"What do you mean?"

"Jack, you know he think he's above all of this, that he's above all of us," she said. "Letting him sit around and do nothing is just proving that he really is too good to help, even when it benefits him."

"This is really upsetting you, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I just feel…strangely angry. I don't know where it's coming from."

"Maybe it's left over?" he suggested. "Maybe you're still angry about what he did back then?"

Rose sighed. "I wanted to believe I'd let all of that go. And I hate the way he's making her feel. She's such a sweet girl. I know we haven't seen him do anything, but it's there. You see it, don't you?"

"I see it," he agreed. "And that's why I think you should go talk to her."

"You're better at this sort of thing," she argued. "People open up to you; they pour their hearts out five minutes after you meet them."

"People or you?" he teased.

"Jack, be serious. You know she likes you."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Are you tryin to encourage that?"

"No. But I'm not worried about it."

"Good. You shouldn't be. I'm great, but she needs a woman right now." He paused. "Rose, you know how much I love you, right?"

She gave him a surprised look. "Yes."

"I just don't want you to ever not be sure," he said. "I get the feeling she's never been sure if Cal loves her, and that must be a sad way to live. I kinda see you when I look at her—the you that coulda been."

She kissed him softly. "I'm so glad I chose you," she whispered.

Now, walking with Samantha, Rose wasn't sure how to begin. "How long have you been married?" she asked finally.

"Almost four years."

She looked so young to Rose; too young for Cal. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Why—" Rose hesitated. It was a rude, unladylike, presumptuous question, but it was the question she knew she had to ask. "Why did you marry Cal? Do you love him?"

Samantha stared at her. "Do I love him? Yes," she said slowly. "I do…I think…" She stopped herself. She had said too much; the urge to keep talking was tempered by the need to keep quiet. It wasn't right to talk about these things. Her marriage was private. And yet, she heard herself ask, "Do you love Jack?"

Rose couldn't help smiling. "Very much."

"You seem happy together."

"We are."

"Does it…bother you being alone with him so much?"

"No. I never get tired of being with him," Rose said. "He never bores me. He never talks too much. He's—I suppose you could say he's my best friend." She became serious. "You don't like being alone with Cal, do you?"

"I do," Samantha insisted. "I did—He—" She hurried toward a bush of brightly colored flowers. "Look," she cried, eager to change the subject. Rose followed, knowing the conversation had gone as far as Samantha would let it.


	6. Chapter 6

On the island, every day looked the same, and once they finished building their settlement, the days began blending together. The boat washed away on their fourth day. There was a deafening crack, like thunder, and they watched, transfixed, as the water took it.

Jack and Clarence set nets and fishing lines every morning. There was fresh fish at every meal. The canned food was stacked neatly in the storage hut and left for a time when fresh food wasn't so easy to procure. Rose and Samantha gathered bananas, coconuts, mangoes, and fruits they didn't know the names of. Cal joined in the work of maintaining camp and gathering food, but he remained silent most of the time. Occasionally, someone would try and include him in the conversation, but his responses were short and almost never invited further inquiry.

Clarence hung one of the extra nets in his hut for a hammock. He had a small table, a chair, and a wooden box for storage. Jack and Rose had one of the beds from the boat. They did without the frame and slept on the mattress. They each had a side of the hut, with its own chair and box. They shared the table. Rose filled the small room with fresh flowers; Jack carefully tacked up drawings. He had a limited supply of paper, so he only allowed himself to draw on certain days and at certain times. Cal and Samantha had the same furnishings, but they barely altered their hut. Samantha did her best to make it cheerful, but Cal shrugged at her efforts, so she gave up.

Cal's disbelief at their situation had given way to a conviction that it wouldn't last. It couldn't possibly last. Each morning, he woke up not knowing where he was. There was a moment when he believed he was at home in his own bed, but the sound of the waves crashing or the voices of the others always brought him back to the island. Some days the only thing that got him out of bed was his belief that it would all be over soon. People didn't just disappear, especially not people like Samantha and himself. Someone was looking for them. He spent hours scanning the horizon for a ship. He turned down invitations to explore, swim, to join in whatever fun was being had. The horizon had to be watched. He had to be ready to signal their rescuers.

Samantha didn't say anything, but she was worried about him. He slept fitfully. He tossed and turned, mumbling to himself. He always seemed distracted. Even when they were alone he was silent. After his outburst that first night, nothing more had happened. At first she had been relieved, but now it seemed like yet more cause for concern. Cal had never been particularly angry with her before that incident. He had been displeased, but he never yelled or threatened her. Stories about his violent temper were whispered among their circle, and some speculated it had been the cause of his broken engagement so many years ago.

Cal never spoke about his former fiancée. Samantha was told the girl had died, a tragic casualty of the _Titanic_ sinking, but some of her friends claimed it wasn't so. They said not only had the girl survived, but she had actually broken the engagement herself. She left Cal for another men. There were dozens of stories about it. Samantha knew better than to ask Cal to verify any of them. She believed sheer luck had down him. After his engagement ended he lived the life of a confirmed bachelor, and Samantha was convinced nothing but luck of the strongest order could have changed his mind. She never would have dreamed he simply got tired of his lifestyle and the nagging of his family, or that as a beautiful, agreeable, girl she was exactly what he wanted. The fact that she was completely in love with him was a bonus he hadn't counted upon.

Samantha wanted to do something to rouse Cal from his stupor, but she was at a loss as to what to try. What was there for him to look forward to? What was there for him to be excited about? He didn't indulge in the simple pleasures the others—and even she—enjoyed. Part of her felt obligated to stay with him, while another part wanted to stay with him. As his wife, it was her duty to sit and stare into the horizon with him. She should share his silent vigil. But aside from a few attempts, she didn't. Cal didn't complain, but she knew he didn't care if she was there. He was just as happy alone. So, she joined the others in their rambles, their swimming, their games and stories.

Rose was still determined to get close to Samantha, but she hadn't tried to push their conversations any further. Samantha's boundaries were unstated but clearly defined. If she pushed too hard, they would likely stop being friends altogether.

They had only a few diversions. They had the few books they had brought with them and the games that were on the boat. They could choose from a deck of cards, chess, checkers, or a wooden top. Unfortunately, it was impossible to make the top spin on the sand. Rose's books made it off the boat unharmed, and only one of Samantha's books suffered any significant damage. Between them they had a dozen, ranging from Austen to Forster. A few others had been left on the boat by previous passengers, mostly mystery stories, but a copy of _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ was among them. Rose claimed it first, although she didn't start reading it until nearly a month had gone by.

The worst of the day's heat had burned off. Rose and Jack were lazily sprawled out by the lake, under a tree's shade. Jack lay flat on his back, his hands tucked under his head. Rose leaned against the tree trunk, _Huck Finn_ propped against her knees. By now, they were both turning brown, although Jack tanned far more quickly than she did. Neither wore shoes. Rose's suitcase had been recovered, but she still wore a version of the outfit she had created for herself. Jack's pants were rolled up nearly to the knee. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. He looked more like the carefree vagabond she had met than he had in years.

"You're not reading," he remarked lightly.

"Your eyes are closed."

"You're staring at me." He smiled. "And you stopped turning the pages."

"I don't know why you think I'd want to stare at _you_ ," she said haughtily. "Of all the nerve!"

"Sorry miss," he said cheerfully. He gave her foot an affectionate squeeze. She laughed. "I'm going to _read_ now, if you don't mind," she said. Jack was dozing off when she spoke again. "He reminds me of you."

He didn't open his eyes. "Who?" he murmured.

"Huck," she said. 'He's just like you."

Jack yawned. "What makes you say that?"

"He's honest," she explained. "He's kind and intelligent in all the ways that matter, but what I like best is that he doesn't lie to himself. He sees people for who they are, even if he doesn't let them know. That sounds a great deal like you. And," she added with a grin, "He's restless, always trying to get somewhere else. He never wears shoes or proper clothes."

Jack moved up next to her. "You think that's me, huh? And I haven't seen you wear proper clothes since we got here," he teased.

"I do," she replied. "And I've been wearing clothes that are entirely proper for this sort of life. How would I get anything done in a dress and shoes? I don't know how Samantha can stand it. She must be boiling in all those layers. Cal too."

"She still hasn't talked to you, has she?"

Rose shook her head. "I'm sure she wants to, but she won't let herself. I think she's afraid."

"Of Cal?"

"No. At first I thought so, but now I think it's more that she's afraid of herself," she said pensively. "As if she's afraid of really looking at herself or him."

"He's been actin' strange," Jack remarked. "I'm glad he started helping, but it's kind of spooky the way he never says anything. He just stares at the ocean. I thought he was just mad about having to be here—and with us—but that's not it, or not all of it anyway. He's sad. I never thought I'd say that, or that I'd care, but I do."

"I know what you mean. When I see him standing there, waiting like that, I feel sorry for him. This would be hard on anyone, but it must be particularly difficult for someone like him."

Overall, she and Jack were adjusting well to their situation, but that didn't mean they hadn't encountered difficulties of their own. They didn't voice their worries; they grappled with them in silence, hoping the other was having an easier time. Jack worried they would be there for the rest of their lives. It was fine now, while they were still young and strong, but what would happen once they got older? How would they survive when they were too old to haul in the fishing nets or carry freshwater back to camp? What if someone in the group got sick or was injured? What would they do about it?

Rose's worries were similar, but there was one notable difference. She worried about what would happen if she became pregnant before they were rescued—that is, if they ever were. Even their best efforts at preventing it weren't foolproof, and they had been lax about it during the first weeks on the island. It just hadn't seemed as important. More and more, Rose found herself facing that possibility; it was almost inevitable, unless they stayed away from each other completely, and there was little chance of that happening.

They couldn't raise a child on a deserted island. Could they? That wasn't fair to it. They were adults; they didn't mind the isolation so much. They had each other to talk to, and the others were enough outside company. If they had a child, would she—or he—grow up and marry? Unless somehow another child were born that wasn't a relation, theirs would be doomed to a solitary life. And children got sick. Babies were terrifyingly fragile creatures. They would have no way of treating illnesses, aside from the few home remedies they were able to cook up.

There was also the question of the birth itself. None of them knew how to deliver a baby. What if something went wrong? What if she died? Women dying in childbirth wasn't quite as common as it once was, but it was far from a rare occurrence. Who would take care of the baby then? Who would take care of Jack?

Rose wanted to share her fears with him, but she didn't want to add to those he already had. He maintained his usual cheerful disposition, but she knew he was anxious about their situation. At certain moments, usually when he was tired, she saw the worry in his eyes. They both knew the danger they were in. They had built a camp and established a routine for each day, but at any moment it could all come crashing down.

Still, she admitted, eventually she would have to tell him.

"Do you think we should try and do something for him?" Rose asked. "It doesn't seem right to let him go on like this. It isn't healthy. What if we gets worse? Becomes delusional or suicidal? I'm not worried about us or Clarence, really, but he might hurt Samantha."

"What can we do? He's not gonna listen to anyone, especially us. Nothing we say will make him accept what's happened."

"It might," she insisted. "We should at least try. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to one of them, and I knew I could have at least tried to prevent it but didn't. Jack, you didn't walk away from the strange girl hanging off the back of a ship. You can't walk away from this. And don't say it's different," she added. "You didn't know me; I meant nothing to you. If you'd left, no-one would have known you were even there, not even me, and as you said, I wouldn't have jumped. You also probably wouldn't be in this predicament."

"You don't know that," he argued. "I might be in a worse predicament. I might've died in the sinking. And you're right, I couldn'tve walked away from you. I don't know why; it was none of my business. But I had to make sure you'd be alright. I'd seen you; I knew what you were trying to do. How could I turn away? If you'd died, it would've been on my conscience for the rest of my life." Jack sighed. "So, I guess I'll talk to Cal, or I'll try anyway. Rose, I doubt he'll listen. I'm the last person he'd take advice from."

"Well, if he won't listen to you," she said, "I'll try. I'm sure he cares for me even less than he does you, but I can't give up without knowing we've done all we could."

Jack put an arm around her. "You're a good person," he said. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

"I've had to be," she said with a chuckle. "Living with you all these years. I'm afraid my spoiled brat tendencies weren't allowed to survive."

"You don't think I spoil you?" he asked in mock horror. "Rose-Petal, you can't be serious! I got you your very own deserted island!"

She laughed. "You mean this was all your doing? Jack, you shouldn't have!"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a slave to your whims, miss."

She rolled her eyes. "You're silly; that's what you are." She let herself lean against him. She felt so safe in his arms; every work melted away. If only that feeling could last. If only every problem could be solved with a hug from Jack.

….

In the evenings, they saw around the fire and told stories. Some were made-up, some were from books, and others were the kind of story everyone has heard but listens to raptly anyway. Their stories usually started out light-hearted, but they always became tales of terror before the evening was concluded. There was something about the atmosphere that demanded it. Sitting around a fire, the dim light flickering over each of their faces, only the soft crackle of the flames and the soft lapping of the water around them, telling frightening stories was inevitable.

Jack and Clarence knew the most, but Rose was always willing to make up a new one. Samantha listened eagerly, enjoying the child that went down her spine, but she didn't like telling them. The ones she made-up scared more than the ones she hard. Later on, lying in bed, she would always listen for the approach of whatever foul creature she had conjured. Cal never told any. He sat and listened, seldom changing expression or commenting. The others encouraged him to join in, but he refused. He liked listening even if he didn't want to admit it. He knew it had been decades since he used his imagination, and he feared it no longer worked. Nothing he could tell would compare to what the others told, and he couldn't bear the thought of proving himself inadequate at something so simple.

"Alright," Jack began. "My turn." They all leaned forward, even Cal. "This is a true story."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Sure it is," she teased. "All your stories are true."

"Some of them are," he said. "And this is one of 'em. My father told me this story. It happened a long time ago, when he was a kid. There was this guy who lived way out in the woods, all by himself, except for three or four hunting dogs. He was mean and stingy. No-one in his family spoke to him, and he didn't speak to anyone unless he had to. He only came into town a few times a year for supplies. The last time anyone saw him was the same spring that the disappearances started."

Samantha's eyes were wide. "Disappearances?" she said.

"Yeah," Jack continued. "At first, it was small animals, dogs, cats, chickens, that sort of thing, but then bigger animals started going missing. A whole cow just vanished—" He snapped his fingers. "Like that." A collective shiver ran through the group. "So, anyway, that night this guy goes home. He's making dinner, and that's when he heard it." Jack paused. "Scritch—scratch," he said softly. "Scritch-scratch."

"What was it?" Rose blurted out.

Jack grinned. "I'm getting there. He looked around, but he didn't see anything. And then, he heard it again, louder this time. Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch." Jack's tone shifted. "And again. Whatever it was, it was in the kitchen with him."

Cal spoke before he could stop himself. "I've heard this one," he said. Each pair of eyes turned toward him, startled by his voice. Self-conscious now, he shrank under their combined gaze. "Well, I have," he said. "It isn't true."

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Rose said, not unpleasantly. "We know it isn't."

"You don't know that," Jack argued. "It could be. My father really did tell it to me."

"And how did he learn all the details?" Rose asked. "Did the man tell him?"

"Well no. I dunno," Jack said. "That's not the point."

"Just go on. Finish it," Clarence urged. "We might as well hear the rest."

"Alright," Jack agreed. "So, anyway, the sound kept getting louder and louder…."

…..

Rose slept soundly next to him, but Jack was wide away. He started up at the stars through the sky light. Cal had been silent for the rest of the evening, but the fact that he had spoken at all made Jack wonder if Rose wasn't right after all. Perhaps he would respond to one of them. Perhaps he could be helped. There was certainly no reason not to try, but what would he say? He couldn't pretend to know what Cal was going through. Sure, his life had changed, possibly forever, but he had everything he needed with him. As long as no major calamity befell them, he would be fine.

He would find a substitute for paper and keep drawing. He didn't mind being outdoors all the time, and he liked seafood. It was so expensive they'd rarely eaten it before; now they could have all they wanted. And most importantly, he had Rose. He snuggled up to her back, encircling her with his arm. How could he, a person who was so adaptable, so easy to make happy, convince Cal, one of the most rigid, demanding people he'd ever met, to accept his life as it was and find a way to be happy?

…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, Smith and Thomas had constructed a settlement of their own, although it wasn't as impressive. They only had one hurt, and it was more of a lean-to, even though they called it a hut. They collected leaves and palm fronds to make beds. They fashioned crude fish hooks and used vines for fishing line. They found fresh water, but theirs was only a small stream. They spent their days alternating between napping in the sun and being bored stiff.

Finally, Thomas looked over at Smith and declared, "I've had enough of this."

Smith was puzzled through his sleepiness. "Enough of what?"

"Of this!" Thomas cried. "We should be doing something!"

Smith yawned. "What do you want us to do?"

"I don't know. We can't get off the island, obviously, but maybe there's a better part."

"I like this part fine," Smith replied. "One part's probably as good as any other."

"Don't be a fool," Thomas snapped. "There's bound to be a better part. We just have to find it."

Smith shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do." Thomas had managed to keep the knife he always carried in his pocket. "But we'll need protection," he went on. "Gather some sturdy sticks."

"What for?"

Thomas's eyes glittered. "We're going to make spears."

 **AN: If you've never heard the story Jack's telling, here's a link to one version of it.** **watch?v=_aju3QhTDbU  
I grew up hearing variations of it, all of which were touted as "true." **


	7. Chapter 7

Samantha was surprised to see Clarence; she thought she was the first one up. The sun was just rising when she reached the fire pit. Her hair was tied back, and she had finally given up wearing shoes, but she still wore long dresses. As much as she envied Rose's freedom of movement, she couldn't bring herself to follow her example. Every time she came close, the heard her mother's voice scolding her. Her mother had been dead for six years, but that didn't matter. Samantha could still hear her plain as day. _You must act like a lady. You mustn't draw attention to yourself. How can you think of parading around with bare legs in front of strange men?_

Clarence's pant legs were rolled up. She tried not to look at his muscled calves as he came in from the water, pulling a net over his shoulder. "Good morning," she said, smiling.

"Morning."

"Did you catch a great deal?"

"We caught enough. What're you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I like this time of day," she replied. "The world feels so new, so still; it's like being the only person alive."

He regarded her with interest. "You don't seem like the type to enjoy that feeling."

"What type do I seem like?"

"I dunno. Haven't thought much about it."

She was surprised to find she felt a little disappointed at his answer. "Do you need any help?" she offered.

"No, I'm fine," he said. "When I'm done, you can help me clean some for breakfast, if you want."

Inwardly, she recoiled from the thought of even touching the so obviously raw fish, but she swallowed her disgust and said, "Alright."

Breakfast was ready when Jack and Rose appeared. Everyone took their own plate and fork from the supply hut and helped themselves to the fish and fruit. Cal arrived a few minutes later. He looked put-together but tired. There were dark circles under his eyes. He said a gruff hello before settling in to eat. Rose nudged Jack with her elbow and cast a significant glance at Cal, who didn't notice her gaze.

"Now?" Jack mouthed.

"Today," she mouthed back. "Please."

"I'm gonna gather some more driftwood," Jack said, looking at Cal. "Do you want to help?" Cal didn't respond.

"Do we need more?" Clarence asked.

Jack shot him a look. "Yes," he said. "And I need someone to come along." He tried to motion toward Cal without Samantha noticing.

"I'm doing laundry," Rose said. "Samantha, will you come with me?"

Samantha watched the two of them curiously. Something was going on, but she didn't know what. "Sure," she said. "I need to wash some things myself."

"I guess I'll repair the nets," Clarence said. "And gather up some coconuts for milk."

"That just leaves you," Jack said, making sure Cal heard him.

Cal looked up, slightly confused. "What?"

"C'mon," Jack said. "You're coming with me to look for driftwood."

"I am? Why?"

"You're the only one not doing something," Jack said. "And I need help. So, come on." Reluctantly, Cal set down his empty plate and followed Jack.

"Do you need help carrying your things to the lake?" asked Clarence.

Rose noticed the ways his eyes lingered on Samantha. She didn't seem to see it, but that didn't mean anything. Was something happening between them? Rose didn't blame her if it was. Clarence was handsome. He was nice, smart, and more than capable of surviving nearly anywhere. What woman wouldn't like him? Especially compared to Cal, who, she was sure, hadn't paid very much attention to Samantha even before they landed on the island. She told herself it wasn't any of her business, but part of her worried about what might happen if they did end up together. How would Cal react? "No, we can manage," Rose said. "But thanks."

….

Jack and Cal walked in silence. Driftwood was fairly easy to find; Jack only picked up a few pieces. They didn't need any, but it was the first idea that came into his head. "It helps if you pick some up," he said. "It's not really gathering wood if you don't."

Cal stared at him. "Why bother?" he said.

"So we can light fired. Cook things. Have some light. Be warm."

"None of that makes any difference," Cal said. But he picked up a small piece of wood. "It won't get any of us home."

"No," Jack agreed. "But it's good to try and make our lives better. This isn't my ideal situation, but it could be worse. We could be dead."

"How would that be worse?"

"You shouldn't talk like that," Jack said. "You wouldn't really rather be dead."

"How do you know?" Cal snapped. "You have no idea how I feel or what I think. You don't care, either, so don't pretend you do. Of course this isn't so bad for you. You're fed. You have _her._ Isn't that about all you need?"

"There's not much else I _could_ need," Jack replied. "You have your health. You have a wife. You have food and supplies and people who would be your friends. It's not that bad here."

"How could that ever be enough?" Cal demanded. "For you, maybe, but for _me_? I had everything. I was a king. And now I'm reduced to taking directions from a sailor and _you_. And _her."_

There was a note of warning in Jack's voice. "Don't talk about her."

"Why not? What will you do to stop me? And after all, I knew her first," Cal taunted. "I have a right to talk about my own life."

"Not her part in it."

"I forgot! You're her protector, the man sent to set her free," Cal said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "You saved her from being miserable, right? It's so difficult to be a wealthy, spoiled wife. What would she have done without you?"

"Maybe you don't want to face it, but you did make her miserable," Jack shot back. "You ignored her thoughts. You treated her like a child. You were controlling. You mocked everything she liked. You chose her food for her! You can't see why that would make a person unhappy?"

"She's a woman. You have to stay in control of them. Clearly, I wasn't doing enough to keep her in line. I would have made her a queen," he went on. "I would have given her anything—everything. But she chose you," he spat. "Do you know how humiliating that was? And I would have taken her back. When I put her on that boat, I was taking her back."

"You did love her," Jack said slowly. It had never occurred to him that Cal harbored any sort of real affection for Rose. She was just a beautiful doll to him, or so he'd always thought. "In some bizarre way, you loved her."

"So what? It doesn't matter now."

"Do you still?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'm her husband," Jack said. "It's my business. Yeah, I'm gonna protect her from you and anything else, if I have to. You've got a wife. She's a great girl, and you should appreciate her more."

Cal laughed. "Rose sent you on this mission, didn't she? The two of you really think you can solve everyone's problems; you're the perfect couple," he mocked. "Always in tune, always happy together, content to make do with whatever situation you find yourselves in and dispense wisdom to the less enlightened. Well, that isn't me. I'm not happy here, and who are you to tell me I should be? Why, so you can feel like you've done something, like you've helped me? You say I've got people willing to be my friends here, then prove it. Be my friend, but I doubt you can."

"Alright," Jack said. "Leave everything in the past where it belongs. I don't care anymore that you tried to kill us. I don't care how unhappy you made Rose. We've moved on. You say I don't care how you feel, then fine, I'll try to care. Really." He held put his hand.

Cal stared at it for a moment before shaking it. "Fine," he said."

…..

Fortunately for them, soap had been among the supplies onboard the boat. They had enough for a few months, maybe six, but Rose worried about what would happen when their supply ran out. She could adapt to life on the island, but she didn't think she could adapt to a life of uncleanliness. As it was, she did her best to keep her and Jack's clothes as clean as possible. Their sheets were washed once a week, and they bathed once a day, at least. Given the high temperatures, everyone did.

She used a smooth, flat rock to scrub any potential stains out of their clothes. She tried not to scrub too hard. Where would they be if the fabric gave way? They had a sewing kit, but if the material simply fell apart there would be nothing she could do. She worried just as much about them not having clothes as she did about not having soap. Had it been just her and Jack it wouldn't have mattered quite so much. They could have gone around in the nude if they had to. But the five of them couldn't do that.

Samantha scrubbed alongside her but with less vigor. Cal's clothes weren't very dirty, and her own weren't much worse. Clarence's would be the challenged. She wondered if it had been a good idea to offer to wash his things. He had declined at first, but it didn't take long for him to give in. Was it sending the wrong message? They weren't married, and they weren't related. Was it right for her to do this for him, or did the fact that he had no-one else, no wife of female relative to do it, make it alright? But then again, Jack and Rose traded laundry duties, so perhaps she was wrong. Or perhaps they were just odd. As much as she liked them, she had to admit they were rather peculiar. Jack wanted to be with Rose more than he wanted to be with other men. She had never seen such behavior, and although she envied it, she still thought it odd.

Samantha tried not to think about Clarence, but her mind kept returning to him. Underneath his sometimes gruff exterior he was nice, even sweet. She was sure of it. He only spoke a little about his life, and she wished he would say more. She knew she couldn't ask, though. What would the others think? Cal wouldn't notice. Once he might have cared, but not now.

…

They trudged through the woods, Thomas leading the way. They carried what few supplies they had along with sharp spears. It was cooler beneath the trees, but they still didn't make it very far between rests. The main things was to not lose sight of the water. If they did, they wouldn't last long.

…..

Jack and Cal had lapsed into silence. Cal walked heavily, leaving deep impressions in the sane. He was baffled by the exchange that had taken place between them. He was sure Jack meant what he said. He was too self-righteous, too disgustingly good not to have meant it. But why did Jack care? Was it just to preserve the peace in their little group, or did he genuinely want Cal to come out of his depression? Did it matter which? Cal had to admit, he was sick of longing for their rescue. He hated feeling useless. But it wasn't as simple as Jack made it sound. It wasn't just a matter of deciding to be happy. If that were true, wouldn't Rose have stayed with him?

Cal wondered if Jack knew what it was like to fight with his own mind or to do things he couldn't always control. He wondered if he ever disliked himself or felt misunderstood but unable to ever show it. Yes, he'd known Rose was unhappy, but what was he supposed to do about it? He took her to Europe. He bought her clothes, jewelry, even those ridiculous paintings. Why did he have to like them? Why did he have to share her interests? Wasn't that her women friends were for? And when had she ever tried to share any of his? His parents had their own friends, their own amusements. Women occupied one sphere and men another. That's just how things were.

Samantha had been such a relief, but once again, Cal couldn't think of her without finding her lacking. She was just too easy. He needed to control as much of her word as he could. He didn't know why. And he could control her with no effort. He realized she almost never made him angry, and that was why he found it so easy to ignore her. But Rose had been exciting. He almost liked it when she sent him into a rage. Part of him had wanted her to yell, to fight back. The time he'd hit her, he'd wanted to kiss her as he did it.

No, Jack didn't have such conflicting impulses. Cal was sure he was exactly what he seemed to be. How could Rose—or any woman—prefer such simplicity? Cal had no idea what layers lurked within Jack. He didn't know what sorrows and experiences, what horrors he had witnessed and participated in during the War. He didn't know how the War haunted him, how the devastating loss of his parents made him reluctant to ever become one, how angry the injustices against the poor made him. He didn't know Jack woke up in the night, terrified, sure he was back in France, the guns ringing in his ears, or that he was afraid to tell Rose how he felt. She would understand, but what would it do to the way she saw him? Could he bear having her image of him change? He was strong. He was resourceful and optimistic. He always knew what to do during a crisis. He'd gotten them through the sinking, through poverty, through times when he genuinely feared they wouldn't eat or have a place to sleep. He'd kept Rose strong and hopeful. How could he admit there was something he couldn't handle?

"So," Jack said awkwardly.

"Yes? Did you want something?"

"I dunno…" He shrugged. "We might as well talk."

"Uncomfortable?" Cal mocked.

"Is that necessary?" Jack said. "What happened to getting along?"

"That doesn't mean I have to be sweetness and light," Cal replied. "That's not who I am."

"Yeah, don't I know it," Jack muttered.

Cal laughed. "Poor you. But look at it this way, you survived a battle with me. Think of how many others didn't. I'm not always such a bad shot."

Jack shook his head. "There's something wrong with you."

"There isn't enough wrong with you."

Jack's tone was solemn. "You don't know that. You don't know me at all."

"Fine." Cal sat down on a rock. "I'm tired of walking. We don't need wood anyway. You want to talk? Talk. We don't know each other. I don't care, but you think we need to be friends, and I am tired of being alone," he admitted.

"You have Samantha," Jack reminded him.

Cal waved his hand dismissively. "She's my wife. We aren't friends."

"Maybe you should be."

"I'm going back to camp if you start spouting feminist—" He said the word as if it repulsed him. "—Rhetoric."

"Alright. I won't say anything else about it," Jack said. "We'll talk about—ourselves." He sat down on a nearby rock. "Are you an only child?"

Cal shot him a withering look. "We're going over all the mundane details?"

"We have to start somewhere," Jack shot back.

"I am," Cal said. "I never had any siblings."

"Neither did I. Your parents alive?"

"Yes. Are yours?" Cal asked reluctantly.

"No. Not for a long time. That's why I started traveling."

"Tossed out, were you?"

"No," Jack said pointedly. "I just couldn't stay there anymore. There were too many memories, and it was so confining. It hadn't felt that way at first."

"Yes, I've heard the slums can be that way."

"I grew up on a farm," Jack said.

"That shouldn't surprise me," Cal replied. "You always did have that milk-fed, bumpkin air about you."

"Where are you from?" Jack asked, ignoring the insult.

"Pittsburgh."

"Great town," Jack said sarcastically.

"Who are you to judge?"

"I've been a lotta places. I know a good one when I see it," Jack said. "It's a cold, ugly city. I got out of three as soon as I could."

"Pity for us," Cal said drily.

"You have any friends?"

"Of course."

"Real friends?" Jack said.

"Do you?" Cal challenged.

"Not anymore. Just Rose."

"You don't have real friends?" Cal said in mock horror. "You?"

"I choose not to have them. I don't want too many people close to me." Realizing he'd said more than he meant to, Jack clamped his mouth shut.

"Close friends are an unnecessary liability," Cal said.

"Yeah," Jack said. He wore a faraway look. Cal wondered what was behind it.

…..

They hiked all day, not making camp until the sun began to set. The stream had begun to widen, which gave them hope that they were going in the right direction. Exhausted and covered in sweat, they splashed their faces and soaked their hair. They couldn't light a fire, but they found plenty to eat anyway.

….

That night they gathered around the campfire as usual. Jack had only answered briefly when Rose asked how his talk with Cal had gone. He wasn't abrupt; he just didn't say much. There was a look in his eyes she recognized but couldn't quite identify. They were heavy, even heavier than usual, and his smiles didn't reassure her. Was he thinking about the War again? She wished he would talk to her about what had happened—really talk to her about it.

Cal, on the other hand, looked lighter than he had in weeks. Whatever Jack had said, Rose decided, must have worked. He greeted them all with actual words instead of grunts and listened eagerly to the stories. Samantha sat next to Clarence, but Cal either didn't notice or didn't care. He almost told a story decided against it. Samantha spent the evening trying not to look at Clarence, who, along with Rose, carried the burden of the storytelling. Jack tried, but he lacked his usual enthusiasm. He barely ate dinner. Rose had watched with concern as he picked at his food. Was he ill? His color was good, and he felt normal.

As they walked back to their hut, later, she said, "Do you feel alright?"

"Fine." He looked distracted as he said it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"No reason."

Rose fell asleep easily, but Jack lay awake. Something in his talk with Cal had triggered the memories. He was able to keep them at bay most of the time, but now, they were unstoppable. It took all of his focus not to be consumed by them. He heard what was said to him, but the words had no meaning. His responses were automatic.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to sleep, snuggling against Rose's back. It wasn't real; none of it was real.

 _Except it was. He could barely see for the smoke. The air was thin and acrid. He didn't dare move from his hole. Guns went off overhead—rat-a-tat-rat-a-tat-dozens of bullets firing each second. He clutched his own gun to his chest. He hadn't fired one since the hunting trips with his father, and now, he was shooting at other people. How had this happened? How had he gotten here? His life before the War seemed unreal; the memories were more like a distant dream than memories of things he'd experienced._

 _Rose's letters arrived each week. He kept them all in a waterproof bag, along with a small photo of her. He read and reread them endlessly. They kept him going; they reminded him that, vague as it was now, he had had a life before._

" _When the war ends…" she wrote. But when would that be? What if it never ended? No, it had to end sometime, didn't it? He wasn't even sure how long he'd been there. Months? Years? He was more afraid of Rose's letters stopping than he was of dying. What was there to go home to if not her? If they stopped, would it mean something was wrong? She couldn't be sick; she couldn't die without him there. The letters and memories didn't just give him something to live for; they kept him sane._

 _A bomb exploded. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the screams, but he couldn't. A body fell into the hole, landing next to him. Blood or mud or both splattered across him._

Jack couldn't breathe. He gasped, desperate for air. His heart raced. Where was he? It was so dark. It was so quiet. How could it be so quiet? He felt Rose stirring next to him. He reached for her, pulling her closer. Frantically, he caressed her. Her body was so soft and warm. He kissed her face, her hair, her neck. She was rea;' she was there. He was there. But she wasn't close enough.

"Jack?" she said, startled awake.

"Rose."

"Jack, are you alright?" She could barely see him. The urgency in his touch was alarming. She pulled him down onto her, hugging him. "What wrong?" she asked.

He kissed her, moving his hands over her. "I need you." His voice cracked. "Rose, please."

They held each other, moving together, he searching for comfort, and she, trying to give it. He needed to be as close to her as possible. He needed to believe she was real, that he wasn't back there again.

He lay in her arms, his head on her chest. Her heart thudded soothingly beneath his ear. She wrapped her legs around him. Her fingers moved through his hair. "You're safe," she whispered. "Jack, I promise, you're safe."

…..

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

He avoided her eyes. He buttoned his shirt quickly. "No," he said.

She laid a hand on his arm. "Jack—"

"Please, Rose," he said. "I ca—I'm fine."

She looked into his face. "Are you? Because I'm not so sure."

"I just had a nightmare," he insisted. "It was bad, but that's all."

She sighed and kissed his cheek. "I'll be here if you change your mind. I can't force you to talk to me." Before he could respond, she went outside.

…

The plates were laid out, and fresh fruit was at each place. Cal was washed and dressed. Rose stared at him in shock. The fire was going. "Did you do all of this?" she asked.

"Yes. I didn't bring in any of the nets. I don't know how to clean the fish," he answered.

His tone was startling. Was he trying to be pleasant? The usual disdain was gone from his eyes. He looked, not quite cheerful, but, almost friendly. "I know how," she offered.


	8. Chapter 8

They found them after a week of walking. Samantha and Clarence didn't hear their footsteps as they approached. They were too engrossed in each other to hear anything. It was an innocent hike. They invited the others, but no-one else wanted to go. Cal told her to have a good time and waved her away. She was glad to see his mood improving, but apparently, it hadn't brought him any interest in her. They were a few miles from camp when Smith spotted them. Staying low in the tall grass, they watched and waited. They couldn't hear the conversation, but they didn't need to. Samantha and Clarence's bodies said everything they could want to know. Their changing relationship was obvious, and Thomas tucked the information away to use later. They appeared to be doing well; they looked healthy. Thomas glared at them. They had food and tools. Weapons, possibly. Not for long.

…..

Rose tried to dissuade him, but Cal insisted on helping with the laundry. "I can do my own, at least," he said.

"Can you?" she asked.

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know how? Have you ever washed clothes before?

"No," he answered. "But it can't be that difficult. Millions of people do it every day. You do it. I'm sure _he_ does it."

She laughed. "I had to learn how."

"Well, teach me," he said.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want something to do," he said. She searched his eyes for a hidden motive but found none. His behavior confused her. She hadn't expected those few hours with Jack to bring about such a drastic change. What had they said to each other? She couldn't help wondering if Jack told him things he wouldn't tell her. He was still having nightmares. He tried to act like he wasn't, but she could tell he was. He clung to her when he woke up, before he remembered the need to hide his feelings. Perhaps if she mentioned it to Cal— _No. Are you crazy?_ But he needed to talk to someone, and if he wouldn't talk to her, why not Cal? He was another man; maybe that's what Jack needed.

"I'll show you how," she said.

She was surprised when he paid attention while she explained how to sort laundry. He mimicked her actions, scrubbing without wearing out the fabric and rationing the soap. As they hung the wet clothes up to dry, he said, "Did I manage alright?"

"Actually, yes."

"Do I hear shock in your voice?"

"I would go quite that far," she said. "But I am surprised. I didn't think you were capable of completing a task like this, but you've shown you're capable of quite a lot over these past weeks."

"I need something to do," he said with a shrug.

"Why?"

He looked down into her face. "So I don't have to think."

…..

Jack carried his supplies in a pouch slung over his shoulder. They were light, but he needed his hands free. He moved quickly, reaching the rocky slope within an hour. His time was improving. He could go around to the other side and take the easier route to the top, but something in him refused to accept that option. It felt too simple. Two safe. As he began climbing, he wondered, not for the first time, exactly what he thought he was doing. What right did he have to go off alone and do something so dangerous? What if he slipped or lost his hold on the rocks? What if he were injured or even died? How would they find him? What would Rose do? How would she feel if he just disappeared? And yet, he couldn't stop himself from climbing. Something in him needed the danger. He couldn't think while he was climbing. It was a survival game, and winning always elated him.

He found his usual spot at the top and unpacked his supplies. He heard water flowing nearby; leaves rustled in the breeze. It was a lovely spot, the sort he should bring Rose to. She would appreciate it. He pictured her taking in the view. As he began to draw, he told himself he would bring her the next time he came. He meant it, although part of him knew he wouldn't do it.

….

Dinner was waiting when Jack arrived back at camp. Rose smiled at the sight of him. "There you are," she said. "Are you hungry?"

He looped an arm around her waist. "Famished," he said, kissing her.

"Well, you're in a fine mood," she said.

"I had a nice time today. Got a new drawing finished."

"I also had a nice time," she said. "Cal and I did laundry."

He gave her a skeptical look. "You can he had a nice time? Doing laundry?"

"Yes, he was actually quite helpful," she said. "And nice. It was a little odd, but not unpleasant. Whatever you said to him the other day must have made an impact. I've never seen him like this." She laughed. "I might have married him if he'd behaved this way back then."

Jack pulled her closer. "I'm glad he didn't then."

The sound of a throat clearing stopped her from replying. They turned to see Cal eying them with amusement. "Aren't you a little old for such behavior?" he asked drily. He stirred the stew, a form of gumbo, and ladled out a bowlful.

"I hope never to be too old for such behavior," Jack said, taking an empty bowl for himself.

"Shouldn't we wait for Clarence and Samantha?" Rose said.

"Oh, they'll be along," Cal said dismissively. "Why should we be hungry because they decided to hike across the island?"

"He's got a point, Rose," Jack said, handing her a full bowl. "There's still be plenty when they get back."

…..

"I'll bet you know the name of every plant on this island," Samantha said.

"Most. I would say all," Clarence replied. "It's just useful to know what plants are safe to eat. You never know when you'll end up stranded on a deserted island."

She laughed. "It's funny, and yet—"

"It isn't?"

"Yes, exactly," she said.

She kept glancing at his hand. The urge to reach out and take it was overwhelming. He wouldn't mind. She was almost certain he wouldn't mind. _But you're married_ , she reminded herself. _Don't do anything stupid. Or unseemly._ He caught her eye, and she smiled. She wanted to speak but couldn't. She wished she could just look at him, without fear or interruption. She wanted to memorize his features. Surely, she decided, there must be something wrong with her.

And yet, he seemed to feel it too. There were moments when she was sure he felt the same way. But that was absurd. Why would he ever be interested in her? Her own husband didn't find her interesting.

"We'll be back at camp soon," he said.

"I didn't think we'd gone that far yet," she said. Unspoken words hung in the air between them. She was too busy trying not to look at him to notice the tree root. With a startled cry, she fell forward. Clarence caught her before she hit the ground. He set her back on her feet. His hands were large and strong; their touch sent a shiver down her spine. "Thank you," she said, blushing.

"You're welcome."

He held her a moment too long, and they both knew it.

….

"Jack? Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Rose said. "I just wanted to talk." She rolled over to face him.

"About what?"

She shrugged. "Anything."

"Gotta be something." He hoped she wouldn't ask about the dreams again. He couldn't talk about them. He knew she wanted him to. She hadn't mentioned it again, but the questions lingered in her eyes.

"I don't want to end up like them," she said.

"Like who?"

"Cal and Samantha. They're never together; they hardly speak to each other. I don't think they even look at each other unless they have to."

"What makes you think we'll end up like that?" he asked. "We've been married a lot longer, and nothing like that's happened to us. It should be us, shouldn't it? Drifting apart after all these years? But we aren't."

"Are you sure?"

He couldn't see her face, but he knew her expression. "Yeah, I'm sure," he said, tightening his arm around her. "We're fine, Rose. Trust me."

"Then you need to trust me."

"I do trust you. I've always trusted you," he said.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Rose—"

"I mean it. Why won't you? I'm sorry, but something is wrong, and you won't tell me what it is. You're unhappy; you're having nightmares again. Jack, I want to help, but I can't if you won't let me."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Maybe I am having nightmares, but I'm handling them. It's not—don't worry about them. Please, Rose, don't. I'm handling this. I'm not trying to—I'm not like him. I'm not gonna let you fall in love with someone else right in front of me and not do anything. That's what's got you upset, isn't it?"

"It's not just that," she said. "But I can't say watching their marriage dissolve is a pleasant experience. Neither of them seem to care, and that terrifies me. We could end up like that."

"But we won't."

"How do you know?" she pressed. "She was in love with him once. Where did that go?"

"He ignored her," Jack replied. "He didn't love her back, and she stopped feeling that way. We're not gonna do that. I'm still thankful for you." Their faces were almost touching now. "Don't ever think I'm not," he said.

Rose believed him, but when the nightmare came and he held her, seeking comfort, her fears returned. How could they maintain their bond if he insisted nothing was wrong? If he wouldn't admit his vulnerability? Whatever was going on, it wasn't something he could handle alone, at least, not forever. He wouldn't say it, but he needed her already. She rubbed his back and let him curl around her, telling them both everything was alright.

…..

"So, what's the plan?" Smith leaned against a tree, sharpening the end of a stick.

Thomas stared into the darkness. "We take their supplies."

"There's more of them than us."

"They'll be worried about the women." Thomas touched the place where Rose hit him. "And they should be," he added ominously.

"We're just gonna run in? Attack?"

"No. First, we're gonna sneak in and see what kind of setup they have," Thomas said.

"They'll notice if we take anything," Smith pointed out.

"Then we don't take anything."

"When are we doing this?" Smith asked.

"Tonight."

The full moon lit their way. They crept silently through the woods and up to the camp. Spears aloft, they circled the first hut. Smith lightly pushed the door and discovered it was unlocked. But why wouldn't it be? Who would steal from them here? He smiled to himself. It only took a glance to see the hut contained little of interest. Clarence slept in his hammock, oblivious to their presence. They went onto the next one and were pleased to find it was the supply hut. Their eyes feasted on the food it contained, the dried fish and stacks of canned goods, the firewood and cooking utensils. Hungrier than before, they made their way through the rest of the camp.

Jack woke at the sound of the door opening. He remained still, listening to their breathing. His hear pounded; his muscles tensed. He tried to convince himself it was another nightmare, but he knew it was real. Rose moved next to him, and he pressed her closer, trying to keep her still. He felt their eyes in him. Slowly, he rolled his head and looked up at them through cracked eyes. It was too dark to make out their features, but he was sure there were two men. One moved forward, as if reaching for Rose. Jack prepared to spring, his hand curling into a fist beneath the blanket. But the other, the smaller of the two, tugged his sleeve, and they left.

Jack lay awake, waiting for his heart to slow down. He squeezed Rose so hard she groaned. "Sorry," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

Jack moved quickly through the camp, knife in hand. He found no sign of the intruders, aside from their footprints, which led into the woods. Everyone was still asleep. He deiced to wait until morning to tell them about what had happened. Whoever it was probably wasn't coming back that night.

"Are you alright?" Rose murmured sleepily as he slipped back into bed.

"Fine." He kissed her. "Go back to sleep."

…..

Jack met Clarence outside his hut. "We've got a problem," he said.

Clarence eyed him curiously. "What kind of problem?"

"We're not alone. Someone was here last night."

"You sure?" Clarence asked.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. I saw them."

"Them?"

"There were two of them," Jack explained. "Two men. I already checked, they didn't take anything. They just wandered around the camp."

"Scoping us out."

"Exactly."

"You think it could be—"

"Maybe. I didn't think they survived, but who else could it be? It's not likely that another group ended up here before us—and is still here."

"And if they did, why sneak in during the night?" Clarence mused. "Why hide all this time?" He glanced over Jack's shoulder as the others approached. "Should we tell them?"

"I think we have to," Jack replied.

"It'll scare them."

"Maybe, but they need to know," Jack said. "Rose isn't gonna let me follow her around without a reason, and I don't want her going off by herself anymore or with Samantha."

Clarence's expression didn't betray his feelings. "One of us needs to be with them," he agreed. "Especially Samantha." Jack's quizzical look prompted him to ass, "She wouldn't know how to defend herself. At least Rose can try."

They made the announcement during breakfast. Jack caught Clarence's eye. Clarence nodded. There's something you need to know," Jack said, looking around the small group. "Someone else's on the island."

Cal spoke first. "How do you know?" There was a challenge in his voice.

"I saw them. They came into camp last night."

"What?" Samantha gasped. "While we were asleep?"

"That's why you got up," Rose said, looking at him. He nodded. "But you said everything was fine."

"It was," Jack said. "They were gone. I was just making sure."

It was a fleeting expression, but Cal saw it. She looked unhappy. He wondered why. What could possibly plague their perfect relationship? "And what are we doing about it?" Cal said.

"They didn't take anything," Clarence said. "They might come back, though, and we don't know how many there are, but—" He glanced at Jack. "I think there's just two of them. I think it's the men from the boat." Samantha's eyes widened in fear, and he found himself about to move toward her. Awkwardly, he lowered his hand. He tried to avoid her eyes. The urge to comfort her was strong. Had anyone noticed? Did she notice?

"You must be joking," Cal said. "They couldn't possibly have—"

"We did," Jack interrupted. "Who's to say they didn't? We've been assuming that, but maybe we're wrong." Clarence envied the ease with which he moved closer to Rose. She looked at the ground, her expression unreadable.

"I agree," she said. "We can't assume anything anymore. We can't take any chances."

…..

Rose gathered shells; she carefully picked each one from the sand and dusted it off before placing it in her basket. She had a vague plan to make jewelry from them, but at that moment, it was just something to keep her occupied. In either direction, she could turn and see someone from the group, so she wasn't defying any of the new rules. Cal was learning to tie knots, and Clarence was pretending to be busy repairing the fishing nets, but really, he was watching Samantha slice pineapple. Rose hoped things would work out for them, though she knew it might splinter the group if they ever acted on their feelings. Cal didn't care what she did now, but that might quickly change.

"Hey." She turned at the sound of Jack's voice.

"Hello," she said.

His hair blew in the breeze. It was longer than it had ever been and more golden than ever. He resembled nothing so much as a Sun god as he strode toward her, barefoot in the shallow water.

"Don't be mad," he said.

"I'm not. Why—"

"Because I didn't wake you up," he said. "Because I told you it was fine. There wasn't any point in bothering you. They'd left."

"It doesn't bother me."

"Rose—"

"Maybe it does," she said. "But it's not really about last night, or it wouldn't be if—"

"If I'd talk about my dreams." He sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm trying to let it go. You say you're fine, but I'm not so sure. I see how much these dreams affect you, and it scares me. I don't want you thinking you have to handle this by yourself. I know you say you can, but…I'm here, Jack. We always talked about everything. You know things about me no-one else does or ever will."

"I need to sort this out by myself," he said. "I'm not trying to hurt you. Believe me, Honey-Rose. I know how close we are. You're the best friend I've ever had. Just be there for me, please?" he said. "When I need you, the way you've always been."

"I'll always be here, Jack. You should know that."

He reached for her hand. "C'mon," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"Just come with me."

He carried her basket. Their pace was leisurely, but they soon reached their destination anyway. He didn't take her to the ridge. Instead, he took her around it, to another part of the lake. There was another waterfall, bigger than the previous one. She starred, delighted by the sight of it. "Jack, this is incredible. How did you find it?"

"I was wandering around and just found it." He shrugged. "Thought you'd like it."

He led her to the shade of a large tree. The grass as soft beneath them. "I don't think we're in any danger," he said. "Not _us_ , our marriage, but if you're concerned, then I am too. We've been together a long time. Maybe we are taking things for granted. Maybe being close has become a habit. I didn't think it was, but…"

"I still feel close to you," she said.

"Me too."

"But things are so different here. When I'm not worried about one thing or another, I'm bored, desperate for a distraction. And Cal keeps trying to be my friend, which is odd on its own, and I'm watching his wife work up the courage to leave him. I feel bad for him, in a way. I don't think he has any idea what's really going on."

"I don't think he cares," Jack said.

"That makes it even sadder. I can't imagine not caring what you do, not caring if you love someone else. I don't even want to think about you with another woman," she said. "She told me they never really talked, even before this. She loved him once, though. Why, I don't know, but she did. He can be charming, when he wants to be. I always made him too angry; he couldn't keep it up."

"What do you think'll happen if we're stuck here forever?" It was a possibility Jack tried not to think about.

"I don't know," she answered. "Survive, somehow. Jack, there's something I've wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure how."

"What is it?"

"I don't want us to have children here," she said slowly, watching his face for a reaction.

"Alright." He spoke quietly, still taking in her words.

"I just don't think it would be a good idea," she explained. "So much could go wrong, and I'm not sure it would be fair to them."

"You're right." There was a hint of sadness in his voice. "I guess I hadn't thought about that. We've—"

"I know. We haven't been very careful so far, but we can start."

"You're not—I mean, you know you aren't?"

"I don't think I am," she said.

He reached into his pocket and took out a knife. He selected a shell from the basket and began whittling a small hole in it.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You asked me to do this," he said. "A few days ago, remember?" He held it up. "See, now you can put a string through it."

"Will you show me how?"

"Sure." He took a second, smaller knife from his other pocket. "Just be gentle with it. You don't want it to crack."

"Where did you learn how to do this?" she said.

"I saw some people doing it when I was in Los Angeles, the first time, before we met," he answered.

"You never told me that."

"I didn't?" he said.

She shook her head. "No." She smiled. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Well, I'm starting to hate coconuts."

She laughed. "So am I."

"I want to cut all of the blank pages out of our books and draw on them," he said.

"Do it."

"I miss painting. I don't miss needing money or having to find jobs, but I miss being around people. I miss watching them. Drawing them."

"I miss hot baths," she said. "And not worrying about our clothes falling apart."

"Petal, you know you can go without clothes as much as you like," he said with a mischievous grin. "As soon as I get your clothes off, you're putting them back on, for some reason."

"That would be fine if we were alone," she replied. She paused. "Sometimes, I worry they can hear us."

"They can't. We're far enough away. Though you do get pretty loud sometimes," he teased.

"Jack!" she cried indignantly.

"Like that." He laughed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," he said reaching for her. She allowed him to pull her onto his lap.

"It isn't funny," she said. "If I thought they could really her I'd never let you touch me again."

"Please don't say that." He tilted is head up and kissed her. "Tell me what else you miss," he said.

Neither of them suspected they were being watched.


	9. Chapter 9

For the next several days, life went on much as it had before, except now no-one went anywhere alone, and nightly watches were set-up. They each took a turn, though to everyone's surprise, both Clarence and Cal protested, arguing the women should be excluded. Their real goal was to have Samantha excluded, Clarence because he wanted to protect her, and Cal because he wasn't sure how useful she would be. She couldn't shoot, didn't know how to fight, climb a tree, and was a little afraid of the dark. But they were overruled, and each was assigned a two-hour shift. Meanwhile, Smith and Thomas continued to lurk about, keeping a steady eye in the camp, waiting for them to decide the threat was past and forget their new rules. They all carried guns now, and they wanted nothing more than to get their hands on one of them. It wouldn't matter that they were outnumbered if they had a gun.

Samantha wasn't ashamed of her fear of the dark. She didn't understand those who weren't. Anything could be hiding in it, she reasoned, and you'd never know until it was too late. But she bravely went into it and patrolled the camp each night, carrying a pistol she could barely aim, let alone fire. She was finishing a patrol when she ran into Clarence. Instinctively, she raised the gun. His hands went up. "Just me," he said.

She sighed heavily. "I could have killed you."

"You wouldn't have fired," he said.

"I might've."

Clarence shook his head. "Not without being sure."

"What are you doing?" she asked. "You still have an hour before your shift."

"Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd take a walk…Maybe keep you company. Time goes by so slowly out here, at night."

She smiled brightly. "I'd like that." Slowly, they circled through the camp. "Where are you from?" she asked.

"Everywhere."

"No, I mean, originally. Where were you born? Where did you grow up?"

"I was born in Boston," he answered. "Grew up there for a few years, then Maine, then Virginia."

"That's quite a bit of moving around. I lived in the same house until I got married."

"That sounds nice," he said sincerely.

"It was a bit dull, actually. Why did you become a sailor?"

Clarence shrugged. "I was always on the water, always moving. It just made sense, and it paid well enough."

"Do you like it?"

"I do. What about you?"

"What about me?" she said.

"Where're you from? What do you do?"

"I'm from Pittsburg, and I don't do anything."

"C'mon, everyone does something," he said.

Samantha shook her head. "Not me. Haven't you noticed how few skills I have? Before this, I was someone's wife. That's all."

"That doesn't sound like much."

"It was enough, then. I was happy," she said, thoughtfully. "I knew he didn't love me, but—"She stopped herself. "I shouldn't be talking about this. I'm sorry."

"It's fine—"

"No, it's not," she insisted. "You can go back to bed. I'll wake you when it's your turn." She hurried away before he could reply. But he appeared again the next night. And the next. And she didn't send him away.

….

"Does anyone else want to go?" Samantha asked.

Rose shook her head.

"Thanks, though," Jack said.

"No," said Cal.

"Alright," Samantha said. "We'll go by ourselves."

"Be careful," Jack called after them.

"We know," Clarence replied.

When they were out of sight, Rose said, "Maybe we should've gone."

"Why?" asked Jack.

"There's not much else to do," she said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but—" He gave her a meaningful look. "They didn't want us to," he added in a low voice.

"I know," she whispered. "But—Well, I'm bored." He laughed. "Jack, it isn't funny," she said in a normal voice. "I feel like—I don't know what to compare it to; I've never felt this way. Even when I was unhappiest, there was always something to distract me. At least you can draw."

"Not for a while," he said. "I'm rationing paper. There isn't much left."

"I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I used too much too fast."

"Why don't you use wood?" Cal suggested.

They both turned toward him in surprise. "What?" Jack said.

"Wood," replied Cal. "Cut some from one of the trees and smooth it out. You could draw on that, couldn't you?"

"That kind of makes sense," Rose said.

"Yeah, it does," Jack chimed in. "Maybe I'll try it. Thanks." Cal just nodded in response.

….

Rose lay beneath the skylight, watching the clouds. It was the perfect temperature, warm enough to lie around without clothes, but not so hot she felt like she was suffocating. Little by little, she had come to know the rhythms of the island; they all had.

"Rose?" Jack said, as he came in. "You know you shouldn't—" He caught sight of her. "What're you doing?"

"Looking at the sky."

"I see."

She patted the empty space next to her. "Well, come one. I'm not supposed to be alone. Isn't that what you were going to say?"

"Yeah," he said, lying down next to her.

"I can't do this out there."

"Not without your clothes," he said.

"No," she agreed. "Not anymore." She sighed. "I like being under the sky. Do you remember—"

"Yes." He grinned. "I remember."

"You didn't even let me say it."

"I'm sorry. Do you wanna tell the story?"

"No," she said. "Not really." She rolled onto her side, facing him. "Jack, are you bored?"

"Right now? I'm alright, I guess."

"I don't just mean right now."

He rolled over, facing her. "What do you mean, Honey?"

"Are you bored with me? With us?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "No," he said. "Do you think I am? Are you?"

"No. Oh, no, Jack," she said quickly. "I don't know why I asked. My mind wanders so much lately, and we're always together—"

"We were always together before," he pointed out.

"But this is different. Before there were people, obligations, things we had to do and time we couldn't spend with each other. You miss people; you miss the world. You said so yourself."

"So, I miss the world sometimes. I miss electricity too. And ham. And cake. Most foods, really," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "But that's got nothing to do with you. It doesn't change how I feel." He moved closer, curling his hand over her hip. "I'd rather be stuck here with you forever than be anywhere else without you. Don't tell me you don't know that."

"I do," she said. "I'm sorry. These stupid thoughts appear. I'm scaring myself over nothing to keep from being really afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Of whoever's out there, of one of us getting hurt, of never getting off this island." Fear glittered in her blue eyes. "We won't, will we? Tell me the truth, Jack. We'll be here forever."

"Probably," he said. "I don't see how anyone could find us. I doubt they're even looking anymore."

"I suppose I don't have that to be afraid of anymore." Rose tried to laugh but couldn't. Jack wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his shirt. He moved his leg over her hip, pressing her against him.

"You don't have to be afraid of anything," he said. "We'll be fine. I promise." Slowly, he rubbed her back. If there was ever a time to share his own fears, this was it, but he didn't. He couldn't. He kissed her forehead. He had said too much just by admitting they were trapped. But she knew that already. He hadn't made things by telling her how scared he was as they clung to the _Titanic's_ railing, and he wouldn't make things worse now. He would hold her, just as he did then.

…..

"Do you think anyone minds us going off together?" Clarence asked. By anyone, he meant Cal, and she knew without him saying it.

"No," Samantha answered. "If they did, they'd come with us or say something. And we're not supposed to wander off alone. I wanted to go for a walk, and you did me a favor by coming with me."

Their hands brushed, and they avoided looking at each other. Without letting himself think about it, Clarence took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Samantha—"

"We shouldn't," she said. But she didn't move her hand.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Don't say what you should do; say what you want."

"I don't know."

….

Rose sensed the change as soon as they came back. She nudged Jack, who glanced at them. "Not our business," he said quietly.

"I know, but-"

"Yeah," he said. He looked over at Cal, who was pulling in a full net of freshly caught fish. His bare chest gleamed in the late afternoon sun. His coal-black hair, now hanging around his ears, looked soft and feathery. Rose, who had never considered him particularly attractive, was taken aback by his beauty. Samantha didn't seem to notice him at all. She no longer held Clarence's hand, but it was obvious she had been. She kept moving, as if to reach for it. Clarence couldn't take his eyes off her.

"They remind me of us," Rose said quietly. "Do you remember when you were leaving dinner and kept looking back at me? I was almost afraid you would walk into something."

"I was afraid I'd never see you again," he said. "I didn't want to get to the last look."

Rose smiled warmly; looking into his eyes then, she wasn't afraid of anything. "I love you, Jack. I don't know if I say that enough."

"You show me, all the time."

"But it's important to say it too. You can do things out of habit."

He kissed her temple. "I love you, Rose."

"We're about to have dinner," Cal said, bringing a bucket of fish over to the fire. "Do you two think you can keep your hands off each other until after we eat?" His tone was sarcastic but not hostile.

"We can try," Rose said brightly. "But I can't promise anything."

"You could help," Cal suggested. "I brought in the fish. I'm not cooking them alone. That would keep you busy."

"Is he lecturing us about helping?" Jack said jokingly.

"Why, I believe he is," Rose said. Cal rolled his eyes as they laughed. "Don't get so offended," Rose added. "Of course we'll help."

Clarence and Samantha made a conscious effort to stay away from one another during dinner, which only made their feelings more obvious—to everyone but Cal, that is. He noticed nothing and was in a cheerful mood for the rest of the evening. He didn't even grumble about having the first watch the way he normally did.

…..

Cal had just opened the door when Jack woke up. He leapt up, as if on a spring, his fist cocked. "It's just me," Cal whispered, stepping into the pale moonlight. He held his hands up.

Jack lowered his arms. "Don't do stuff like that," he said. "What do you want?"

"I heard something. It sounded like they were coming back."

Jack was on the alert again. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but I definitely heard two men talking."

"Alright, I'm coming."

"Where're you going?" Rose murmured sleepily, as he left the bed.

"Go back to sleep," Jack said, tucking the blanket around her. "I'll be back in a minute." Once they were outside, he said, "Where'd you hear them?"

"They were going toward the supply hut."

They moved quickly, making as little noise as possible. Jack kept his gun in the waist band of his pants; no sense waving it about. Cal kept his out but held it awkwardly. As they got closer to the supply hut, they saw them. Jack motioned for Cal to go around to the other side. Guns drawn, they moved closer. Two figures struggled with the lock. They were too absorbed in their task to notice Jack and Cal's approach until they were nearly upon them. The click of Cal's gun alerted Smith, who whirled around. Cal leapt forward, preparing to shoot, but Smith ducked, slamming the thick, blunt end of his spear into Cal's side. He cried out in pain, doubling over and struggling to breath. Jack fired, barely missing Thomas's head as he turned to flee. They both ran into the woods. Jack followed. "Come on!" he yelled over his shoulder.

The heavy foliage and half-moon made it impossible to see them, but Jack followed the sound of their footsteps, firing as he went. One of the let out a yell. Cal caught up with him as he fired his last bullet. "Gimme your gun," Jack demanded.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Cal stood, dumbfounded, as Jack kept running, shooting into the darkness. This wasn't the Jack he knew, from then or now. It was like someone else had taken his place. When he came back, his gun was empty, and in the dim light, Cal could make out his set expression; there was an odd intensity in his face. "Did you get them?" he asked.

"Maybe," Jack said. "I think I hit one of them, once, but I'm not sure of anything else. Here," he added, handing back the gun.

They hurried back to camp, listening for any unusual sounds. The others were waiting with torches when they arrived. Rose threw her arms around Jack. "Jack, you're alright!" she cried, relieved.

"I'm fine," he said reassuringly. His face had softened, but Cal saw the flicker of his former state in his eyes as he hugged Rose.

"We heard the shots," she said. "We didn't know what to think."

"We found them trying to get the supplies," Jack said. "We chased 'em off. For now."

"They nearly broke the lock," Clarence said. "We'll have to make a better one." He turned to Cal. "You should've gotten me too."

"I didn't have time to get everyone up," Cal said. "I was closer to Jack when I heard them."

It was a lie, but Jack didn't dispute it. He saw Cal watching Clarence, taking in how close he was to Samantha. _He finally noticed_ , Jack thought. Rose gave him a reproachful look. "You should have gotten me up too," she said. "You jump."

"I just reacted," he said, not wanting to argue. "You should go back to bed."

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"I'm gonna stay up for a while, help with the watch," he replied.

"It's my turn after Cal," she pointed out. "If anyone should stay up, it's me."

She was right, but he didn't want her taking unnecessary risks. The flight into the woods had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Once he began firing the gun, everything melted away, until he wasn't sure where he was anymore. He could have been back in France, racing toward a foxhole. He wanted her safe, but he also didn't want her to see him that way if he could avoid it. "I'll come get you in a few hours," he promised.

She stared at him for a long moment. "You'd better."

Jack walked Rose back to their hut. "Lock the door," he said. "I'll let you know when it's me."

"Do you really think they'll come back tonight?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I think we scared 'em off for now, but who knows? We might've just made them mad enough to try something."

"Jack, I'm not afraid. I—"

"I know, but get some rest anyway. I'll come get you. I promise." He held her close and kissed her. "You jump, I jump. I haven't forgotten," he added.

"Be careful," she said.

"Thought you weren't afraid."

"Not for myself."

Cal had a fire going by the time Jack made it back. "Sent the other back to bed?" Jack said, sitting down. Cal just nodded and handed him a newly loaded gun. They watched the flames in silence at first, but then Jack said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Alright."

"She ran to you," Cal spat.

"Rose?"

"Of course. She heard the shots, and she was afraid for you. Did you see the look on her face?" Cal said. "It's like you had returned from war."

"That's not the way she looked when I came back from the War."

"She cared; that's my point." Cal frowned at the fire, and they lapsed into silence again. "How did she look when you came back?" he asked a little while later.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine."

"Scared. Relieved. Happy," Jack said. "Like she didn't believe I was really there. I didn't believe I was really there." He paused. "Did you want her to get upset about you too?"

Cal shot him a derisive look. "No," he replied. "I just wanted _someone_ to care that I went into those woods too. Even having her care would have been enough."

"This is about Samantha, isn't it?"

"I don't want to talk about it." A moment later, he burst out, "How long has it been going on? Have you two known the whole time?"

"We've known," Jack said slowly. "And a while, I guess. I don't think anything's really happening yet. They just like each other."

"But she's my wife!"

"And you forget she's even here most of the time," Jack countered.

"She's not that interesting," Cal said defensively. "And so what? It's not like I've mistreated her. I've never laid a hand on her."

"Maybe that's the problem," Jack said.

"You have a filthy mind."

"I do not, but if you're not even interested in her that way, I don't know what right you have to complain. And I don't think you're supposed to let her know you're bored when you're with her, not if you expect her to stay with you. Why should she care about you if you don't care about her?"

"I never—we weren't like you two," Cal said. " I do care about her, but what's there to be interested in? And it didn't matter before."

"Well, you did have more to offer before," Jack said. "Life's different here. There's not many distractions."

"Rose still wants you just as much as she ever did," Cal snapped.

"You already said we aren't the same. And we put a lot of effort into our relationship. It may not look like it, but we do. We talk to each other. We're friends before we're anything else. You're barely Samantha's acquaintance; you just expect her to always be there, adoring you, and you can't do that. Not anymore."

"And you've never done that with Rose," Cal scoffed. "Not once in all of these years? You've always listened so attentively to anything she had to say and always been the perfect companion."

"I'm not saying we're perfect," Jack said angrily. "And maybe I haven't always given her the attention she deserves, but I don't make a habit of ignoring her. I've never not cared what she was doing or if she was happy. I've never thought she was boring. It wouldn't take weeks for me to notice she was spending all her time with another man."

"Oh, no, you two are perfect together," Cal said drily. "Don't deny it. With the start you had, you have to be."

"Don't start with that. Don't feel sorry for yourself. If you want her, do something to get her back. But is it really Samantha you want, or do you just not want to lose her? There's a difference, but I'm not sure if you see it."

"I don't know what I want," Cal said quietly. "With Rose, I knew. It was both. It was clear. But now, I don't know."

…..

True to his word, when Cal went to bed a few hours later, Jack woke up Rose. They sat by the fire. "We're supposed to patrol," she said.

"They're not comin back tonight."

"You sound certain."

"They woulda done it already. The fire probably kept them away."

"Why did you light one?" she asked.

"Cal did it." She moved closer, chilled by the wind. He put his arm around her. Cold?" he said. Rose nodded. "You can go back to bed," he offered. "I'll be fine on my own."

"I'll stay. It's my turn. _You_ should go to bed, though. You've barely slept tonight."

"I can always sleep tomorrow."

"Then so can I," she said. "I don't like sleeping alone anyway."

"We talked about it," he said.

"And?"

"He was upset, but he doesn't know what he wants," Jack answered. "He doesn't get why she's doing this."

"What do you think?"

"I don't think he's ever cared that much about her. It's not just the change of being here. He tried to deny it, but he couldn't really. He called her boring."

"He actually said that?"

"Pretty much," Jack said.

"That's very sad, for both of them," Rose said pensively.

"Hey, that wouldn'tve been you," he said, sensing her thoughts. "Even without me." He turned toward the low murmur of voices. He reached for his gun, muscles tensed. Rose looked over her shoulder at the two figures. "Wait here," he whispered. She didn't protest. Crouched down, he moved toward them. They walked toward Clarence's hut, and Samantha's long hair swayed. He lowered his gun as he realized what was happening. Silently, he went back to the fire.

"It's them, isn't it?" she said. "They're getting serious about this."

Jack put his arm around her. "It's them."

They sat together, listening to the night, neither of them ready to discuss the coming changes. The life they had made wasn't much, but it was pleasant, and they didn't want their group to split apart, especially with threats lurking nearby. They all needed one another, whether they liked it or not. At least, they both told themselves, _we_ won't fall apart.


	10. Chapter 10

"What are you doing?" Rose's gaze was as matter-of-fact as her tone.

"I'm working on the raft," Clarence said, pretending not to understand her meaning.

"Don't do that. Don't play ignorant. What are you doing? You and Samantha?"

"We aren't doing anything—"

But she cut him off. "Clarence, we all know. Something's going on with the two of you."

"What do you mean? _Everyone_ knows?" he asked, looking around, as if he expected Cal to be watching. But no. Cal and Jack were gathering firewood. Samantha was working on a fishing net; he had been teaching her to tie knots.

"Yes, Cal knows. If he were in a better state of mind, he would've figured it out sooner, but luckily for you, he only realize it a few days ago," Rose said. "You haven't exactly tried to hide it."

"There's nothing to hide," he insisted stubbornly. "She's my friend. Is there something wrong with that? _We're_ friends, aren't we?"

"We are," she agreed. "But you aren't in love with me, nor am I with you."

"Did she say that?" Clarence's eyes lit up with hope. "She said she's—" He stopped himself. "Why would you say that?"

Rose sighed. "Clarence, we _know_ ," she said, emphasizing each word. "The best thing you can do is just be honest. You'll only hurt yourselves and the group if you keep pretending nothing's happening."

"Don't you mean we'll hurt Cal?" he scoffed. "If he can be hurt."

"No, I meant what I said. We have to stick together if we want to survive. We'd be vulnerable on our own even if no-one was hiding in the woods and trying to steal out supplies."

Clarence looked at the ground. "She's married. I don't know what I was thinking, what I expected."

"You weren't thinking. You were feeling," Rose said. "You trusted what your felt. I understand that. I've done it. And it puts you up against a very difficult choice: do you keep trusting the way you feel or do you go back to doing what's expected of you, what's supposed to be the safe path?" She smiled slightly, shaking her head. "I had three chances to make my choice," she went on. "Three moments to turn back, but I didn't. I tried. I couldn't." For the first time in years, she remembered being lowered in the boat, Jack gazing down at her, tears glistening in his eyes. He kept his mouth steady, holding back the sorrow as best he could. There was love there, in his gaze, and relief that at least she would be safe. She didn't even know what Cal's expression had been; she hadn't noticed him at all.

"Are you saying I should be with her?" he asked.

"I'm saying you have to do what's right for you, what makes you happy, and not everyone gets three chances. But that means you have to be _honest_. Don't keep sneaking around. Yes, she's married. That's just something you two have to deal with."

"She's afraid," Clarence said.

"Of Cal?"

"I guess. She didn't say it that way. It's more like she's afraid to disturb things, no matter how unhappy she is. She wants me," he added. "I know that much."

"Fight for her, if you really love her."

"You think that'll work?"

Rose shrugged. "It's how Jack got me."

…

They were turning to head back when Jack could take it no longer. "Have you talked to her?" he asked.

"No." Cal avoided looking at him and kept walking.

"Don't you think you should?"

"Why? I already know what she'll say. At least Rose had the decency to make the first move. She decided how things would go."

"I think you did," Jack replied.

"I was supposed to just ignore that—"

"It doesn't matter," Jack said. "It's over. Don't bring it up again. We're talking about you and Samantha, what you're going to do about the situation you're in right now."

"What would you do?" Cal asked.

"Seriously?" Jack gave him a surprised look. "You wanna know how I'd handle it?"

"I know this would never happen to you," Cal said sarcastically. "Your marriage is perfect after all, but if it wasn't. If you and Rose weren't fairy tale lovers, and this was you, what would you do?"

"I don't know," Jack answered. "I never thought much about it."

"Of course not."

"I guess I'd ask myself what I wanted," Jack said slowly. "Figure out if I wanted her, or if I should just let her go. If we'd both be happier that way. If I still loved her—if I thought she could still love me—I'd fight for her. I wouldn't try to murder anyone, especially not her," he added. Cal chuckled drily. "But I'd try to make things right between us," Jack went on. "To make her happy again. To us both happy."

"I still don't know what I want," Cal admitted. "If we weren't here, I'd know, but…"

"But maybe you just don't want to be alone?" Jack finished. "You like having someone to sleep next to, and it doesn't really matter who."

"Something like that." Cal let out a heavy breath. "I'm still jealous of you," he added, laughing.

"What?"

"You heard me. You got Rose when I couldn't. You kept her. You're _happy._ Even now." Cal shook his head. "I don't know how you do it."

"That's what you're jealous of?"

"I'm jealous of the way you can be satisfied," Cal replied, annoyed. "And the way you can get people to love you, to get them to keep loving you. She was ready to die with you!"

"It's not one-sided," Jack pointed out. "That's what you keep forgetting. I would've died with her too, if it came to that, if there was no other way. I wanted her to survive, to go on, even if I didn't. I valued her life more than mine, and she did the same. I still do."

"Love makes you selfless," Cal said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, and it makes _you_ selfish."

"I was already that," Cal said.

….

It all happened very quickly. Jack and Cal approached from one direction, and Clarence from the other, with Rose behind him. Clarence walked quickly, his steps filled with purpose; his gaze was fixed on Samantha, who watched him curiously. "Clarence—" she began before he cut her off with a kiss. He took her into his arms, kissing her passionately. She sank against him, almost relieved. Cal's eyes widened; he tried to speak but couldn't. He turned to Jack, as if for support. Jack didn't know how to respond. He looked past them all, to Rose, who wore an expression of disbelief that matched his own.

Cal went forward; Jack placed a hand on his arm. "Don't," he cautioned.

"You'd do nothing?" Cal demanded.

"Think first," Jack replied.

But Cal kept going. "Samantha!" he yelled angrily. They turned to face him. Samantha stayed close to Clarence, her hands on his shirt. He had one arm looped protectively around her. He met Cal's gaze, challenging him. No-one noticed Rose slip by and over to Jack, who instinctively pulled her closer. The whole scene was so familiar; it was almost a memory. Cal thought so as well, which only made his anger worse. He wasn't actually sure who he was seeing at that moment; it could have been Jack and Rose, running away again. They wore the same expressions. "What do you think you're doing?" Cal cried.

Samantha was at a loss for words. "I—I—" Her voice didn't sound like her own; her hands shook. But Clarence put his hands over them, and they stopped. What was she doing? It was a good question, and one she didn't quite know how to answer. Cal's eyes burned into her like hot coals. She had to force herself to look away. She tilted her head up and looked at Clarence. He wore a look of determination, and she wished she could borrow his confidence. "Does nothing scare you?" she asked softly.

"A lotta things scare me," he answered, glancing down at her. "When I think about living the rest of my life without you, that scares me." Samantha smiled slightly, lifted by his words.

"Have you forgotten you're my wife?" Cal said incredulously. "Or does that mean nothing to you?"

"You forgot," Samantha said. "I'm always aware of it."

"But you want him?" Cal scoffed. "You're going with him? Say it. Allow me that courtesy. You could have left a note. You could have prepared me for this repulsive sight," he went on. "At least Rose managed that—"

"Come on," Jack said, taking hold of Cal's arm. He held it firmly.

"I have a right to say that!" Cal yelled indignantly.

"Not that, you don't," Jack said, giving him a meaningful look.

Cal laughed. "Oh, I see. What can I say then?"

"Perhaps everyone should take a moment before they say anything," Rose suggested. She looked from Cal to Clarence and Samantha. "That way no-one says anything they'll regret later."

"Come on," Jack said, letting go of Cal's arm. "Let's go talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Cal grumbled.

"Sure you do," Jack replied, undaunted. "There's a lot you can say to me. It'll make you feel better."

Cal frowned deeply. Rose could see the lined etching themselves more firmly into his face. It was a shame, she thought. He could have been a rather handsome man, if he smiled. If he _really_ smiled. She and Jack exchanged glances, both wondering how they had come to be referees in this fight. "Let's the three of us talk as well," Rose said calmly, going over to Clarence and Samantha. They cast wary glances at Cal. "Don't worry about him," she added.

"They should be—" Cal burst out, but a look from Rose silenced him. Swearing quietly, he allowed himself to be led away by Jack.

When they were out of sight, Rose motioned for them to sit down. "I didn't expect you to act so soon," she said.

Clarence laughed. "I didn't know I was going to do it," he said. "Until I saw her." He gazed affectionately at Samantha. She smiled again, everything else forgotten. She held his hands tightly, as if afraid to let go. Watching them, Rose was reminded again of Jack and herself.

"So, this is what you both want?" Rose asked. She looked closely at Samantha, but there was no trace of the doubts Clarence mentioned.

"Yes," Samantha said, a new confidence in her voice. "It's what I want. I love him—" She looked at Clarence, a light blush filling her cheeks. "Or, you rather."

"You mean that?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Clarence leaned in to kiss her again, but Rose stopped them. "And this is real?" she asked. "Real enough to end a marriage?"

"What marriage?" Samantha said. "What Cal and I had isn't a marriage. It's a routine. I don't want to live in it anymore."

"You have to tell him that," Rose said. "It isn't fair not to tell him how you feel."

"Why is it up to me to be fair?" Samantha demanded. "He never was."

"But you loved him once, didn't you?" Rose said gently. "When you married him?"

"That was a long time ago," Samantha said.

"Even so, we're all stuck here together," Rose reminded her. "We have to get along. You can't escape each other, and we need everyone working together." Rose gave Clarence a look, signaling for him to agree.

He didn't want to. He didn't want either of them to have anything else to do with Cal. They could get along without him, couldn't they? But he knew it wasn't true, even as he thought it. There were too few of them for a feud to be sustainable, too many threats and too much work for them to turn against each other. "She's right," he said. "We have to make some kind of peace."

…

"What was that all about?" Cal demanded, once they were out of earshot. "No-one elected you my guardian!"

"Maybe you need one," Jack said calmly. "Maybe I decided to do it."

"I could find someone better."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a nearby tree. "Alright. Yell at me," he said. "I get it. Better than yelling at Samantha."

"I have a right—"

"To be angry," Jack said. "I'm not gonna argue with that. But you can just attack her."

"It was him I was planning to attack," Cal said sullenly. "How can she want him?"

"He's a good guy. Good-looking. He pays attention to her. Shows her how to do things," Jack replied.

Cal's voice dripped with scorn. "Do you want him too?"

"No," Jack said, chuckling. "I'm happy the way things are. I'm just answering your questions. You don't do any of that for her."

"I'm part of the group. I'm making an effort."

"I know," Jack said. "You're actually not that bad to be around now. It's pretty nice. And surprising."

"It's an honor to be tolerated by you."

"Don't be like that. I'm trying to be your friend."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Cal said.

"Maybe that's up to me. There's not much else to do. But that's not what we're here to talk about."

"I'm not going to share my feelings," Cal said.

"You have feelings?" Jack feigned shock. "When did you get them?"

Cal shot him an irritated look. "I've always had them."

"Then why do you act like you don't?" Jack asked.

"Do you question Rose like this?" Cal snapped.

"This isn't about her. Stop trying to bring her into it."

"No, you wouldn't like that," Cal said. "You don't want me telling that story."

"No, I don't," Jack agreed. "Telling it won't do any of us any good. It'll just make you look worse." He paused. "Don't be that guy again."

"What are you talking about?" Cal said defensively.

"You know what I'm talking about. It's not gonna help anything. It won't make you feel better."

"You don't know that," Cal argued.

"Fine," Jack said. "Do whatever you want. I don't care. You're obviously too stubborn to see reason."

…

Stubborn though he was, Cal didn't renew his attack when he returned to camp. Samantha had already moved her things into Clarence's hut, and as Cal looked around the space they had shared, he realized nothing would get her back. It left him with a strange kind of loss; it wasn't her he missed, but rather, the presence of another person, just as Jack had said. He wondered if that hadn't been part of what held their marriage together. Having her around was almost like a habit. He didn't really need or want her; he simply was used to seeing her. Now that she was gone, he didn't know what to do. The balance had been thrown off. Jack and Rose were one faction, Clarence and Samantha were another. He was the odd one out, and he didn't like it.

…..

"Well," Rose said. Jack nodded silently. The day had been long. No-one spoke much, and they all seemed to be avoiding each other. Cal came to take his watch, but he said nothing.

They climbed into bed, determined to put the day's events aside, if only for a few hours. Rose settled against him, pitying Cal as she did so. It must be awful to be alone, especially there. Fear gripped her, and she held tightly to Jack, hoping fervently that nothing would happen to him.

…

They approached slowly, careful not to make a sound. Darkness lay over the camp like a blanket. The sky was empty; not even the stars twinkled overhead. The fire was dying, and Cal dozed, a gun in his hands. He never had a chance to react. The blow came from behind, sharp and fast. He crumpled, groaning thickly. Thomas took the gun. Smith hurried over to the supply hut. He picked the lock while Thomas kept watch. It was a more difficult task than they had anticipated, and when he finally got it open, he let out a triumphant cry.

"Are you crazy?" Thomas hissed. "You want to wake them all up?"

"So what? We've got guns of our own now."

"There's still no need to announce ourselves before we're ready," Thomas replied.

But Jack was already awake. He had been for some time. No matter what he did, he couldn't fall asleep. He lay and listened to the silence and tried not to think about the changes the day had brought. But the thoughts came anyway. How would the group work now? Would Cal withdraw again? What would happen if Clarence and Samantha's relationship didn't last? There was every reason to believe it would—hadn't he and Rose lasted?—but he couldn't help wondering.

He didn't know what time it was, but he sensed several hours had passed. Cal should have come and gotten him for his watch, but there was no sign of him. Jack slipped into his clothes, uneasiness creeping down his back. There's nothing to worry about, he told himself. Cal probably fell asleep. He'd done it before. But as Jack stepped outside, he knew there was more to it. He had no proof, just a feeling in the pit of his stomach. The air didn't feel right.

He walked slowly, gun drawn. He quickened his pace when he saw Cal lying on the ground. Jack threw another stick on the fire, attempting to create more light. He checked Cal's pulse. It was strong. As far as Jack could tell, he was just unconscious. In the dim light of the fire he could see the supply hut was open. As he moved toward it, he heard them returning, though they moved quietly. He slipped into the trees, now on full alert. They argued in loud whispers as they gathered supplied. Jack moved around them and into Clarence's hut, grateful he left it unlocked. He woke him with a firm shake.

"What—" Clarence began, but Jack held a hand over his mouth.

"Come on," Jack whispered. "Get your gun."

Clarence did was he was told. Together, they crept back outside. The odds, they believed, were in their favor. They weren't outnumbered, and they had the advantage of surprise. They sprang on them as they left the hut; their arms were full, and they couldn't get to their guns. Wrestling the intruders to the ground was easy. Food scattered. Smith punched wildly, missing Clarence each time. Clarence grabbed his collar and tried to pull him to his feet, but Smith dragged him back down, shoving him into the sand. Smith groped for his gun, but Clarence kicked it out of his hand. It flew down the beach, landing with a thud.

Jack struggled with Thomas. Trading blows, they rolled across the sand. The noise of the right woke the others. Samantha watched helplessly as Clarence tried to subdue Smith, finally wrapping him in a fishing net. Rose ran toward Jack, but the shot rang out before she reached him.


	11. Chapter 11

"Jack!" The scream tore from Rose's mouth as if the bullet had struck her. She didn't stop to think; she didn't care about anything. Jack seemed to look at her before crumpling to the ground. He clutched his shoulder, a dark stain appearing beneath his hands. Cal jumped to help him. Samantha kept screaming, though her voice was growing fainter. Clarence chased the fleeing Thomas, catching him quickly. Rose lunged at Smith, taking him by surprise. Yelling angrily, her words garbled, she hit wildly. He struggled with her, but he couldn't subdue her. She grabbed for the gun, and they rolled on the ground, each trying to get control of it. He put a hand around her throat, but she managed to kick him in the stomach. He cried out, and she got hold of the gun. His eyes wide, he stared up at her, waiting to see what she would do. "Get up," she hissed. When he hesitated, she kicked him. "Now!"

Her head began to clear. Rose heard Jack groaning in pain. She turned to him. He lay on the ground, Cal next to him. It was perhaps the oddest scene she had ever witnessed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Smith, preparing to run. Coolly, she shot his leg, sending him back to the ground, just as Clarence returned with a now-bound Thomas. She dropped the gun; it was too heavy now; and ran to Jack.

Jack was shaking. He was deathly pale, and his hand was cold. She wasn't sure he could even see her, but then he whispered her name. Cal had torn apart his shirt and was trying to stop the bleeding, but the bullet was lodged in his shoulder. When he pressed down, Jack yelled. "We have to get the bullet out," Rose said.

"Sure, but how?" Cal asked. "Unless you've done this."

"Just follow the logic," Rose said. "We need tweezers or something like that." Her voice trembled. Jack couldn't die. This wasn't how Jack was supposed to die, not after everything they had survived.

"Here," Samantha said, out of breath from running.

Cal accepted the tweezers. "I have to do it?" he said anxiously. He looked down at Jack's ashen face. "I can't."

"Sure…you might as well," Jack said weakly. "You already got blood on you."

Cal looked at Rose for help. "I'm holding him," she said. "You can't do that the way I can." Cal nodded. Rose held Jack still; she cried when he screamed as Cal wrenched the bullet free. His head lay in her lap. As the wound was cleaned, he squeezed a bruise into her hand. Finally, it was bandaged.

"I'll help get him to bed," Cal offered.

"Alright," Rose said. Slowly, they carried him, leaving Clarence and Samantha to deal with the prisoners.

…..

Rose held Jack's head in her lap. She stroked his face. His eyes were close, but he was awake. The pain was too intense for sleep, and he wished it would send him into oblivion. During the War, he had seen that happen. They had nothing to give him to relieve it. He didn't complain; there was no point. Between them, Rose and Cal had done their best. At least he was still alive. "Why did you do that?" she whispered. "Jack, why?"

"Couldn't let them hurt you," he murmured.

"You could have been killed. There are other people here besides you."

"No…not me." He tried to grin but couldn't quite manage it.

"I haven't been that afraid since you left for the War," she said.

"Don't be afraid. I'll be fine," he said.

But she knew he might not be. Infection could set in. It could kill him. They had nothing to fight it off with. He could lose his arm. The pain might be too much to take. He could start bleeding again. Thoughts crowded her mind, images of Jack suffering, each worse than the last. She kissed him, holding back tears. "You can't give up," she said. "You can't leave me, no matter how awful it gets."

"I won't. Rose, I promise," he said. "We've come too far to get broken up now, like this. It's only one bullet."

….

They had nowhere to lock anyone up, so they tied Thomas and Smith to trees. It was an elaborate set-up devised by Clarence. It allowed them to sit or stand. Their wrist were bound together, and one ankles was attached to the tree, along with their waists. They weren't close enough to touch. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do until they thought of something better. Clarence stayed up to keep an eye on them, though it wasn't long before the sun rose. Samantha fell into a deep sleep filled with nightmares. Cal tried to sleep but couldn't. After a while, he gave up and made breakfast for everyone.

…

Cal knocked before opening the door. Jack's eyes opened. "Hey," he said softly. Rose slept above him, her arms still holding him tightly.

"I came to see how you two were," Cal said.

"Great. I can hardly tell I was just shot," Jack joked weakly. "At least she finally fell asleep."

"Can I do anything?" Normally a situation like this would have made Cal uncomfortable, but there was no awkwardness now. He didn't like seeing Jack suffer so much. After everything else that had happened, he was glad to know he could care about another person. And he was touched by his concern for Rose, in spite of everything. Cal knew he would likely have only thought of himself were he in Jack's place. It was strange to admit, but Jack was the best friend he had ever had.

"I think we're alright for now," Jack answered. "Unless you've got something for pain you haven't told us about."

"I'm sorry. I don't."

"Knew you didn't. Don't be sorry. You didn't shoot me," Jack said. "You missed, remember?"

"I feel rather bad about that now."

"About missing?" Jack said. "I don't."

"Be serious," Cal said.

"You think I'm not serious about dodging a bullet?" Jack said. "I know what you're trying to say. You don't have to. You dug a bullet out of me last night. We're a little beyond that now."

"Are you sure I can't do anything?" Cal asked. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't think I can eat yet. Maybe later. There is something, actually, if you don't mind."

"What?"

"Look after Rose," Jack said. "Until I'm over this."

"Are you sure you want me to do that?" Cal said.

"I trust you. I'll feel better knowing she won't be alone all the time. She can't lie around with me all day for weeks," Jack replied. "And that she has someone around who can use his right arm."

"Clarence and—"

"They're in their own world," Jack said knowingly. "I don't blame them. And I'm not close enough to either of them for this."

"We're close?" Cal said.

"No," Jack said.

"I never expected this to happen."

"Life's funny," Jack said. "It sends you places you never imagined. Brings you to people…." He touched Rose's hand.

"You know, for a while I wondered what would have happened if you hadn't met her," Cal said.

"We woulda met," Jack said. "Somehow."

"I'll look in again, in a little while."

"Fine," Jack said tiredly.

…

Thomas accepted their imprisonment stoically. His mind hummed with plans for escape, but he only stared at his captors with hate-filled eyes. Smith, on the other hand, whined and screamed, begging to be freed. To be killed. To be given something for the pain. Clarence bandaged his leg and stopped the bleeding. He did a crude and uncaring job, but the wound was clean, though the bullet was in too deep to get out. It was just above the knee.

Samantha retreated from his howling, taking refuge in the hut she and Clarence now shared. She couldn't stop replaying the scene in her head and being near them made it worse. Clarence followed her. Cal, disgusted with Clarence for not properly handling the situation—why were they even able to see them?—forced a gag into Smith's mouth. He kept yelling, not caring if his words were intelligible. He kicked the ground with his good leg and threw sand with his feet. Cal ignored him. "We don't have to feed you," was all he said.

….

Jack dreamed about being shot. The crack of the gun rang in his ears, and he smelled blood. It was ironic; he survived over two years in the War, unscathed, only to be shot randomly. And for what? So they could steal what little supplies they had? Why did they still want to fight? If they had come to them and asked for help, maybe they would have shared. They wouldn't have been taken into the group, but some sort of peace could have been made.

Or maybe he was just telling himself that. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he wouldn't have wanted either man anywhere near Rose.

He hadn't thought before going after them. He felt no fear, of the gun, of death. He stood between Rose and harm; there was no question about what he would do. He cared about the others. He would have tried to protect them as well, but Rose was always foremost in his mind.

The pain woke him up. It was a burning ache. His arm was stiff, but moving it made the pain worse. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Grimly, he realized he had never known what pain was until now. The only thing that came close was the icy water, but at least it didn't hurt after a while. Rose was nestled next to him, her head resting on his good arm. Carefully, he put it around her. He replayed the past few months in his mind, wondering how they ended up there. Perhaps they just weren't meant to travel on boats, he decided. Or maybe they were being told to settle down, once and for all. If that was the case, the point could have been made with more subtlety.

…..

Samantha appeared around dinnertime. She looked rested, but she was quiet. She avoided looking in the direction of Smith and Thomas. They stared even harder at her, enjoying her discomfort. She sat close to Clarence, who kept a reassuring hand on her back. Rose refused to leave Jack, so Cal took food to them. Jack forced himself to eat. Each mouthful made his stomach lurch. "I'll eat more later," he said. Rose worried silently. When he was in the War she had been afraid of losing him, but this was different. Then she hadn't been able to see it happening.

Meanwhile, Clarence tried to comfort Samantha, but she was still badly shaken. The anxiety of the past few weeks had taken its toll on her. She couldn't hold it back any longer. "It's just something I need to feel," she explained. "And I'll get over it. Dear, you can't help." It was strange how drastically her vision of herself had changed. Just a day ago she would never have been able to say something like that, much less mean it. She felt stronger now, in spite of her fears. Her strength didn't come from Clarence, and yet, it did. The strength had been in her all along, but being with him had brought it out. It was nothing like the love she had felt for Cal. That had been about trying to please him, about getting his attention. She hadn't felt the same connection to him; he was never essential to her. She just hadn't realized it. Maybe, she mused, that was why she was never essential to him.

…

Rose fashioned a sling out of an extra sheet, and after a few days in bed, Jack got up. "I have to," he said.

"But Jack—"

"I know. I'll be careful," he promised.

"It hurts me to see you like this," she said. "I want to help you, but I can't. It's horrible. I shouldn't say that, should I? This isn't about me."

"I'd hate seeing you hurt," he replied. "And you have helped me, Petal. Who else would've taken care of me the way you have?" He kissed her hair. "Having you there when I slept helped."

Doing everything left handed was difficult. Jack felt clunky and clumsy. Eating with a fork was awkward. Bathing took twice the time it normally did. Putting on or taking off a shirt was impossible without reigniting the pain, so he went shirtless most of the time. The sling helped. But he dreaded the daily changing of his bandage. It took both Rose and Cal to do it, she to hold him, and he to disinfect and re-bandage the wound. Their efforts saved his arm, so in the end the pain was worth it. Gradually, he began to heal.

It was at the beginning of the second week when Clarence broached the subject. "What are we gonna do with them?" The others were silent; no-one wanted to speak first. It was a question they had all been pondering. No solution seemed right.

"We can't let them go," Jack said. "Obviously."

"But we can't keep them like that," Rose said. "Can we?" She looked around the circle. "It wasn't supposed to hold them forever."

"I don't know that it will," Clarence said.

"We could—" Samantha ducked her head, not wanting to say the words. They all knew what she was thinking. They were thinking it too.

"We can't do that," Jack said, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be right."

"Why not?" Cal asked. "They would've killed us. They still would if given the chance."

"I'm not arguing with that," Jack replied. "But if it's not right for them to do it, why should it be right for us to do it?"

"What if they'd shot one of us and not you?" Cal said. Jack just shook his head. He knew what Cal meant, and he didn't have an answer.

"So we're supposed to keep them around?" Samantha said. "And hope they don't find a way to escape?"

"She's right," Rose said. "But I'm not sure we should…."

"You already shot one of them," Cal pointed out.

"That was different," Rose said. "He was getting away. I was in a panic. I thought Jack was—" The word stuck in her throat. Jack took her hand.

"Maybe we could build something to keep them in," Clarence suggested.

"We'd have to keep them tied up," Jack said. "Unless we made a floor they could dig through."

"It's sand. They can't really make a tunnel, can they?" Rose asked. "With only their hands?"

"It wouldn't need to be very big," Jack answered. "It's not impossible. We shouldn't take the risk."

"If they get a floor, I want a floor," Cal said. "They're no better than the rest of us."

"Building a floor would take a while," Samantha said.

"Not really," Clarence said. "We were just in a hurry before. We'll probably have to add them anyway. For the rainy season."

"We can't wait for my arm to get better," Jack said.

"I can help," Cal offered.

"We can all help," Rose said. "Except for Jack."

"I can fetch things," Jack said good-naturedly.

….

They went to work the next morning, gathering the materials. They still had plenty of nails and rope. The basic layout would be the same as all the other huts, only this one would lock from the outside and wouldn't have a skylight. The one window would be small and filled with an intricate knot of bars. The floor was completed first. Jack helped where he could. As predicted, he mostly fetched things. He tried not to let his useless arm bother him, reminding himself it was only temporary. By mid-afternoon it was too hot to keep working. Jack's shoulder began aching again, and he went to lie down. "I'll go with you," Rose said.

"No, you stay here," he insisted. "You need the fresh air. I'll be fine by myself."

"Call me if you need anything."

"I will," he said. "Relax for a while."

Clarence and Samantha decided to go exploring; neither felt like staying near the camp. Cal and Rose didn't want to go.

"We could go on a short walk," Cal said. "Not the trek they have planned. Just to the lake. It's cooler there."

"Why not?" Rose shrugged. The change would be welcome. She knew no matter what he said, Jack wouldn't call for her. If he needed something he would get it himself, and if he couldn't, he would go without it.

They say at the edge of the lake, on a large, flat rock. Their feet dangled in the water. The trees gave a nice shade. All in all, it was a lovely scene, but Rose barely saw it. She frowned at the water.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cal asked, wondering if he sounded like Jack.

"What?" She turned to him, surprised. "No."

"It might help. That's—that's what Jack told me."

"And you talked to him?" she said.

"Eventually. Didn't he tell you?"

She ignored the question. "Did it help?"

"Do you think it has?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "You're much easier to be around now. I like you."

"That's saying something indeed," he said drily.

"Well, it is," she said. "You may not like it, though."

"No, it doesn't bother me. You're only the first woman to humiliate me, not the most recent," he said.

His tone was hard to read. "Was that a joke?" she asked.

"If you have to ask, it failed," he said.

"I didn't know you knew how to tell a joke," she said.

"I never told you any."

"Yes, that would have been unseemly," Rose said. "You might have been too approachable."

"Rose—"

"You don't have to say anything," she said. "We don't have to talk about it. It doesn't matter now."

"You have to let me say one thing."

"What?"

"I'm sorry about what happened to Jack," he said. "I didn't want him to get hurt. I—" Could he say it out loud? "I like him."

"I noticed. Most people do," she said.

"I guess we're friends now," Cal went on. "It's strange."

She shook her head. "It's surreal."

"He's helped me a lot. I made fun of him at first, but talking does help. It's nice, having someone listen."

"He's a very good listener," she said. "That's one of the things I love most about him—that I loved first about him."

"I understand why you love him so much."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "It seemed like I should. He and I are friends, so you and I should be as well."

"I thought we were. Sort of. Not close, but friendly."

"I envy you two," he said.

"Oh, don't start with that."

"What? It's true," he said. "Your marriage is perfect. All these years, and you're the same as you were then."

"Not quite," she said. "There are things he won't tell me."

"What do you mean?"

"About the War," she explained. "I know it still bothers him. He has nightmares. They went away for a while, but after we landed here they came back. He won't talk about it. And he's been different since got came back," she went on. "Not all the time. In little ways. Have you noticed the way he handles a gun, the way everything about him changes?"

"Yes. I didn't expect him to be that way," Cal said. He remembered the way Jack had plunged into the forest, shooting, fearless.

"He wasn't before," she said. "He was strong. He wasn't afraid of things. But this is different."

"He seems like the same person to me," he said. "Why let it bother you?"

"I try not to. I don't like feeling this—this space between us," Rose said. "I don't want to lose him."

Cal laughed. "There's no chance of that happening. The man was shot, and all he cared about was you."

"I know. It's my fault this happened to him."

"You know it isn't," he said. "Jack doesn't blame you. He was doing what he had to, what any man would do."

"Would you have done it?" she asked.

"For you?"

"For anyone," she said.

"For the group," he said thoughtfully. "I would have."

They met an excited Clarence and Samantha back at the camp. Their faces were read, and they were out of breath from running. "We found something," Samantha gasped.

"What?" Rose asked anxiously.

"Treasure," Samantha said.

"What?" Cal cried.

"We didn't find treasure," Clarence said. "But we might've found something that will lead us to it."

"Are you serious?" Rose said.

"There might be treasure here?" Cal said. Both had momentarily forgotten any treasure was useless in their present situation.

"I think I might know where we are too," Clarence said. "I gotta get a map. See if Jack's awake."

 **AN: Thanks to everyone who's been reading this and my other stories. I appreciate all the comments and follows!**


	12. Chapter 12

They gathered together, eagerly awaiting Clarence's explanation. After a few minutes he appeared with several maps under his arm. "I knew I saved these for a reason," he said. "It wasn't just that I couldn't let them be destroyed." He unrolled one and laid it out on the sand for them to see.

"What are we looking at?" Cal asked.

"This," Clarence said, pointing. "This is where I think we are."

"La ile Antoinette," Rose read in a perfect French accent. "So?"

"So, the French used to own most of this area." Clarence swept his hand over a corner of the map. "All these little islands were havens for pirates."

"That's why you think there's treasure here?" Cal said skeptically. "Wouldn't they have taken it with them? Or wouldn't someone have found it by now?"

"Not necessarily," Clarence said. "There's lots of reasons to hide it instead. And why come out here unless you're looking for it? But how many people believe it's even here anymore?"

"That's a good point," Jack said. "You don't think these two were _trying_ to come here, do you?"

Clarence shrugged. "Who knows? With the storm, it's probably just a coincidence we ended up here."

"It's a funny coincidence," Samantha said.

"Yes, but it's one that doesn't help us very much," Cal pointed out. His excitement over the prospect of treasure had dimmed considerably. "What does it matter if we know where we are? We still have no way to contact anyone or to get off this island."

"Maybe we do," Rose said. "There's more, isn't there?"

"Yeah," Clarence said, unrolling another map. "You see this?" They all leaned forward and studied the map. "These are the islands closest to us. They're much bigger. People live on them. They aren't that far away."

"But's Cal's still right," Rose said. "We don't have a boat. We could never swim that far, and what are the odds of anyone coming here?"

"You want to build a boat, don't you?" Jack said.

"Do you really?" Samantha asked, turning to Clarence. "That's impossible, isn't it?"

"Just difficult," Jack said. "Between the five of us, it could be done."

"Exactly," Clarence agreed. "It would take a few weeks even if everything went smoothly."

"But what makes you so sure this is where we are?" Cal asked. "We could build a boat, and it could actually float, but then we all drown or starve to death in the middle of the ocean."

Clarence tightened his jaw. "The landmarks we found today are why I'm sure this is where we are," he replied. He hadn't been certain until Cal questioned him. "With good weather, we could be at one of these other islands in a day or two, three at most."

"But it isn't certain," Rose said. "Another storm could catch us."

"It could," Clarence conceded.

"Should we take that risk?" Samantha said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "When we're fine where we are?"

"Are we?" Jack said. He looked around the group.

"I'm happy," Rose said. "Mostly, now that I'm used to living here."

"It could be worse," Cal said grudgingly.

Jack grinned. "Thanks, Cal. I know how hard that was for you to say."

"Sure we're fine," Samantha said. "What do we need that we don't have?" Caught in the first glow of love, Clarence agreed with her. Not only did he not care if anyone else was around, but he tended to forget they were.

But the more she thought about it, the more Rose knew what Jack was talking about, and so did Cal. They needed other people; they needed to socialize. They needed new clothes, medicines, things to do. They needed so many things listing them was impossible. And always, the future awaited, yawning before them like a great, gaping, black hole. It was terrifying. Filling the days got harder all the time.

The meeting ended with no decisions made, but they all thought about the possibility of getting off the island. For Jack and Rose, it was a thrilling prospect. She dreamed of simple things, a hot bath, meat that wasn't fish, the violet perfume she'd long since run out of, even though she used it only occasionally, putting a few drops behind her ears for Jack to smell in bed. Jack dreamed of blank paper, sidewalks filled with people, ground that didn't shift under his feet constantly. He dreamed of Rose in a new dress, her hair swept up in some complicated way he couldn't understand but admired, rooms filled with music and dancing, holding her, spinning with her. \

For Cal, it was as terrifying as it was thrilling. His businesses were in a shambles; he was sure of that. His family would have declared him dead. They would have wasted no time doing it. His cousins would be only too happy to take over and put their own sons in control. He scowled at the thought of it. Everything he'd taken such pains over, everything he'd helped grow, destroyed in an instant by his moron cousins and their offspring. If he did return, what would happen? Would there be a struggle?

And what of the rest of the world? What would they say when they found out his wife and left him, and for a sailor, no less? He was getting over his own feeling about it, but the thought of being an object of pity, of scorn, was shameful. It was too awful to be borne.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, the next morning, as they walked together. When his arm hurt the most he forced himself out of bed. Being active helped him ignore the pain.

Cal pretended not to hear Jack's slow, deliberate breathing. He knew better than to bring up his injury. "I've been thinking about what it would be like," he answered. "If we were able to get off the island."

"You don't want to."

"It isn't that. I'd love to go back home. I'd love to have a real bath. Sit in a chair. Eat at a table. But the world has already passed me by," Cal explained.

"Your family—"

"Is rejoicing over my death. They have control over everything now. For all I know, if I appear again, they'll have me killed. Or try to."

"Do you actually believe that?" Jack said.

"I don't know. It's the sort of thing I might have done once, if given enough reason."

"Is that the only reason you don't want to go back? This doesn't have anything to do with Samantha, does it?" Jack asked.

"I'm too old for this," Cal said. "Too old to start over again, left by another woman, and this time everyone will know about it. I don't know that I have anything to go back to."

"Sure you do. You'll get your life back, if that's what you want," Jack said. "Maybe it won't be easy or quite the same, but you can't feel bad for yourself and stay here forever just because some people might talk."

"It's not the same for you. You don't understand this."

"You think I don't hear people talk?" Jack said. "You think they never look at me and Rose and wonder what a guy like me is doing with her? They've been talking about us for years. Saying she'd leave me, I'm not good enough, that she isn't."

"Well, you're not." It was said without malice.

"You think I don't know that?" Jack said. He increased their pace, and Cal wondered if his arm was getting worse.

….

"Stay in bed," Rose said. "Please, Jack."

He settled in next to her again. "Alright." She lay her head on his good shoulder, her arm draped across him. His good hand rested on her hip.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"Nothing you haven't done already. It'll take time to heal," he replied. "I'll be fine."

"You don't have to pretend you're not in pain, Jack. No-one will think any less of you."

"I don't know if I can get through it if I talk about it every time it comes," he said.

"It never stops, really, does it?"

"No, not really," he admitted. "I'm just getting used to it. It's not as bad sometimes."

"I hate seeing you like this. I hate not being able to help."

"You do," he said. "Don't worry so much, Honey-Rose. You kept me alive. You and Cal."

"Those are words I never expected to hear you say. I still can't believe he pulled the bullet out of your shoulder. Or that you and he are _friends_ ," she said. "Sometimes I think all of this is a dream, and I'm going to wake up, back in our bed, the one we had before, remember?"

"I remember. I've thought that too."

"What if we were dreaming together?" she mused. "Do you think such a thing is possible?"

"Could be. I wouldn't say it can't happen."

"But this isn't a dream," she said.

"No, it isn't."

…..

The room as hot and stuffy. The skylight had been blown shut during the night. A thin layer of sweat covered them. But Jack didn't get up to open it. Rose was asleep next to him, her body curled protectively around his. Getting up would disturb her. He could smell her hair; she was warm and heavy in her sleep. He remember all the times he carried her to bed, carefully, so as not to wake her. She was always heavier when she slept, but still so easy to pick up.

Rose made a soft sound, like a distressed kitten. Jack knew that sound. He gave her a comforting squeeze. "It's alright, Rose," he said softly. "It's not real." That seemed to do it. She settled back into peace.

Jack knew they couldn't stay there, but he wasn't sure he completely trusted Clarence's plan. He made a convincing argument. The likelihood of finding the same markings on another island did seem low, but then again, what did any of them really know about the area? Maybe those sorts of markings were common; maybe they were everywhere. And Clarence knew plenty about running a boat, but how much did he know about building one? If it had been just him, Jack wouldn't have hesitated. Why not take the chance? But there was Rose. He couldn't take chances with her.

…..

"I thought of something," Jack said. He sat on the edge of the lake. Rose and Cal were rinsing out the laundry.

"What?" she said. Cal turned, intrigued as well.

"Why don't we try finding that treasure?" Jack said. "If it's here, that means Clarence is right, and we're not as alone as we thought."

"Or it could be a coincidence," Rose said. "We might still sail off to nowhere."

"Or what if someone already found it?" Cal said. "Or moved it sometime during the last few hundred years? He might still be right, but we won't know that."

"I thought about that too," Jack said. "But it still seems worth a try. If we have a chance—"

"We should take it," Rose finished. "Otherwise, we'll always wonder if we could have made it home."

Jack looked into her eyes. He saw his own doubts and hope reflected in them. "We aren't doing anything unless we're sure," he said.

"I'm not convinced we ever will be," Rose said. "We'll never be certain enough to feel safe setting out anyway. But I don't suppose we're much safer here, are we?"

"Nothing is safe," Cal said quietly. "No-one. Don't the three of us know that by now? I understand the others not realizing it, but we should know better."

"It sounds pretty gloomy, but Cal's right," Jack said. "We know what can happen, how bad it can get."

"Then isn't that all the more reason to stay?" Rose asked. "We know what the ocean will do. She let us escape twice. Are we really prepared to risk a third time?"

"You talk about the ocean as if it could hear you," Cal said. "As if it were alive."

"Isn't it?" Jack said. In the distance they heard the faint roar of the waves.

…

Jack brought up the idea to Clarence. Rose and Cal seemed to be waiting for him to do it. There was an unspoken agreement that the two of them would follow his lead. This made Jack even more careful than he normally would have been. Clarence listened to the proposal and thought for a long minute before responding. "Why not?" he said. "And if we do find it, then we'll have the money to start new lives away from here."

That was something the rest of them hadn't considered, not even Cal. Rose wondered why they hadn't. Did she and Jack simply care so little about money? But what would they live on if they made it off the island? Suddenly that was a question which needed an answer. Only Samantha had nothing to say. She didn't share in the excitement. She had no dreams of a life away from the island. Her life had begun there, Leaving was unthinkable.

There was the problem of Cal. They would have to divorce. It would be public knowledge; it would be in the papers; all of their friends would know. What would she say? How would she explain Clarence? What would they live on? Would he go back to sea, leaving her behind? These were questions she couldn't answer or even share with the others, and to her dismay, she realized they were questions she wasn't sure she wanted answered. Why did the others insist on changing things? Hadn't they all gone through enough?

"Who will go?" Rose asked.

"Won't we all go?" Cal said.

"You don't think someone should stay behind and guard the camp?" Rose said. "And keep an eye on those two?"

"Why?" Cal shrugged.

"It's a good question," Jack said. "Can we leave them here alone?"

"We could take them along," Clarence suggested. "According to the maps, it'll take a few days to get there."

"Why do we care what happens to them?" Cal said irritably. "Are you all forgetting everything they've done?"

"No-one's forgetting anything," Rose said. "But they're our responsibility now."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing," Cal said.

"Don't misunderstand me," Rose said meaningfully.

"Could we really do that?" Jack asked. "Take them along?"

"It sounds dangerous," Samantha said.

"It's dangerous either way," Clarence pointed out. "At least if we take them we'll know what they're up to."

"Are you saying they could escape?" Cal said.

"No," Clarence said, giving him a hard look.

"Then why not leave them?" Cal argued.

"Because-" Clarence began.

"They can escape," Cal interrupted.

"No—"

"Stop it," Jack ordered. "Both of you. This isn't getting us anywhere. We have to figure out what we're gonna do." He spoke authoritatively, as if he were used to giving orders and having them obeyed. His back was straight, despite the pain. "No-one wants to stay behind," he went on. "So that means everyone goes, including those two. We'll just have to watch them closely. Sleep in shifts. If we want to know it's safe to leave the island, this is what we have to do."

No-one had an argument with his pronouncement.

…

Samantha kept quiet as long as she could, but as they began preparing for the expedition she took Clarence aside. "I don't like this," she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Taking those two with us? Trekking off into the woods, searching for a treasure that may or may not be there? It's dangerous. Why are we taking these risks?"

"So we can leave, hopefully," he said. "Go home. Don't you want that?"

 _But where is home?_ she thought. Out loud she said, "But what if something happens to one of us?"

"It won't," he said reassuringly. "Is that what this is all about?"

"Does it need to be about anything else? And how can you be so sure? We thought were safe before, but we were wrong. They nearly killed Jack, and they would have killed us all if they had the chance," she said.

"But we're fine," he said. "Jack's getting better. Everything's under control." He kissed her forehead. "Don't worry so much."

…

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Cal asked.

Rose knew what he was referring to. "It's better than doing nothing, I suppose," she answered. It was just the two of them. Jack was asleep. Clarence and Samantha were off somewhere. Since Jack's injury, there were more and more times like this. Rose didn't quite know why, but Cal was always there now.

"It doesn't scare you?" he asked. "Or give you a bad feeling?"

"No. Not really. Not any more than anything else. Why? Do you think it should?"

"I don't know," he said. "Samantha is set against it."

"She doesn't want to leave the island at all," Rose said. "She wants to stay where everything is simple."

"What gave you that idea?"

"It's obvious," she said. "Can't you see it?"

"I haven't spent enough time with Jack, apparently," he said drily. "I don't have his gift for perception yet."

"I have my own gifts, thank you. I don't understand why you haven't noticed it."

"I try not to pay more attention to my former wife than I have to," Cal replied. "I find it helps with letting go."

"Letting go? Of what?" she said. "You were barely married. Don't feel so sorry for yourself."

"You said thing are simple here."

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed that either," she said.

"No, they are," he agreed. "But not in a way I necessarily like. You're saying it's easy for her to love him here."

"There's no-one to question it."

"That isn't worth staying on an island, alone, forever," he said.

"I used to think Jack and I could stay alone forever."

"You don't anymore?"

"This is a different kind of alone," Rose said. "This isn't the kind you choose, where you're surrounded by people but ignore them. This is…oppressive."

Cal just nodded. He knew what she meant.

…..

"You don't have to go if you don't feel up to it," Rose said. "I'll stay here with you."

Jack shook his head. "No. I can manage."

"Jack, I know you're in pain."

"It's not so bad. I'm getting used to it. I'll be all healed soon," he said cheerfully.

"Why won't you let me fuss over you?" she asked. She brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. "I just want to know you're alright."

Jack kissed her hand. "I'm fine, Rose. Or I will be. Besides, you don't want to miss all the fun, do you?"

"At this point," she said. "I'm not sure I'd mind."


	13. Chapter 13

They made a strange sight. Clarence and Samantha were in front; he carried the maps and a bag of supplies, along with a gun. She carried supplies but no weapons. She refused to hold one. Rose and Jack were next. He carries nothing, though he had a gun in the waistband of his pants. Rose had a gun of her own now. She and Cal had insisted on it. Their united front had been a surprise to the other, even Jack. He was pleased to see them getting along, though. Rose had a bag of supplies slung over each shoulder. She held Jack's hand, prepared to catch him if he fell. If necessary, she was prepared to carry him. It wasn't something she felt comfortable admitting, but if she were forced to decide between the others and Jack, she would choose Jack, without hesitation. If she had to choose between herself and Jack, she would choose him.

Next came Smith and Thomas, bound together at the wrist. They couldn't walk quickly, so the whole group moved slowly. Cal was behind them, carrying the last of the supplies. His gun was drawn and pointed at their backs. Neither man showed any sign of escaping, but he saw no need to take chances. He still wished they could just shoot them and be done with it, but popular opinion remained against him, despite the inconvenience of hauling them along. Cal had never killed anyone. His frenzied attack on Jack and Rose was the only time he ever fired at another human. He had no understanding of what taking a life meant or how it weighed on the soul. Had he asked, Jack could have told him more about it than he'd ever cared to know.

"How do you feel?" Rose asked quietly.

"I'm alright," Jack said. "It just hurts a little, that's all."

"Do you need to rest?"

"No," he answered. "We haven't gone that far. I can make it."

"Jack—"

"Really, I'm fine," he said, squeezing her hand. "You can fuss over me a little when we make camp, if you want."

"You'd best remember you promised," she said.

The trees protected them from the worst of the sun, but it was still hot enough to make frequent breaks necessary. Sweat poured down their bodies; their hair was wet, and their clothes were sticky. Cal was glad he'd finally abandoned shoes. He rolled up his sleeves and wished he'd cut his pants into shorts, like the others. Samantha, still in her long skirt, with its heavy folds, suffered most of all, next to Jack. But he welcomed the heat; it took his mind off the pain.

As the day wore on they moved deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually they couldn't hear the ocean anymore. The map didn't take them far from fresh water, which they were relieved to discover. Cal stood guard over Smith and Thomas while the other busied themselves making camp. Jack unpacked the supplies. Rose gathered fruit for dinner. Samantha made places in the grass for sleeping, and Clarence lit a fire. Little was said, but the silence of the prisoners was louder than bells. Everyone felt their hatred.

"We're about a third of the way there," Clarence reported, as they ate.

"Are you sure?" Cal asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Clarence said coolly.

"It's a valid question," Jack said, in an effort to ease the tension. "So, we should be there the day after tomorrow then?"

"If we keep this pace," Clarence replied.

They cleaned up after dinner and went right to bed. Each had a turn to keep watch. Jack volunteered to go first. "Should you?" Rose said. "With your arm—"

"I can manage," he said.

"But—" she protested.

"But I don't know much sleep I'll get anyway," he said.

"Is it that bad?" she asked.

He met her gaze. "Yeah," he said in a low voice. The pain in his eyes cut through her.

"Can I do anything?"

Jack kissed her. "Being here is enough. Go get some sleep."

But Rose couldn't sleep. She lay awake, watching him. Watching the men he was guarding. They saw her. Smith smiled menacingly, one hand on his wounded leg. But her stare didn't waver. She'd shoot him again if she had to.

How had her life come to this? It was tempting to say it was all fated, but that seemed too easy, somehow. But how else could a well-brought up girl like her end up on a deserted island, clutching a gun—with her husband and former fiancé no less? It started with Jack, with her decision to go with him. No, it went further back, to her father. When he lost everything the course of her life had been set in motion. For a time she 'd thought his bad choices had locked her up even tighter, but now she say they had nothing to do with it. One way or the other, the decision to leave everything she'd ever known and go with Jack would still have been a difficult one. And yet, it had also been one of the easiest she had ever made.

Jack looked up as she sat down next to him. "What're you doing?" he asked.

"Keeping you company."

"Rose, you're supposed to be resting."

"Why?" she said. "You aren't."

"Because it's my turn to keep watch," he said.

"Maybe I want to watch with you. I can't sleep anyway."

Jack laid down his gun and offered her his good arm. Smith and Thomas were sound asleep; there was no reason to be hypervigilant. She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Aside from worrying about you? I'm worried about what we're doing," she said.

"You think it's a bad idea."

"I didn't at first, but the further away from camp we get, the worse I feel. I can't stop feeling like something bad is going to happen," she said. "I've been thinking about our lives, and I can't figure out what brought us here."

"A boat did," he joked.

"Yes, and your love of stargazing is why we met," she said drily. "Don't you think there's more to it than just chance?" Fate was something she had rejected, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"I don't know," Jack said, considering the idea. "I always thought things just happened. You go one way, you end up here; you go another, and you end up there. It's just luck and chance and maybe skill, sometimes. But I'm not so sure anymore," he added.

"Because of this?"

"Yeah, and other things," he said.

"The War?"

He nodded slowly. "None of it seemed to have a purpose," he said slowly. "But…I need it to have one, you know? If I'm gonna live with myself now, all the things I did, they can't just be because of chance."

"This might be the most you've ever talked about it."

"I don't like talking about it. I don't wanna think about it." He laid his face on her curls. She put a hand on his neck. "I wish I could just forget," he said. "I wish it could just be erased, like it never happened." He squeezed his eyes shut against the images. Rose shifted, so her arms were around him. He began to shake, and she knew he was fighting back tears.

"It's alright," she said, stroking his hair. "It's over, Jack. You're sage." She knew in some way it would never be over for him, but she offered what comfort she could.

He nuzzled her neck, his good arm holding her tightly. "Rose."

"I'm here. I'll always be here, Jack."

"Don't leave me," he begged.

"I won't," she promised.

"If you knew what I'd done, rose, you wouldn't love me anymore. You wouldn't stay."

"Have you been afraid of that this whole time?" she asked. "Jack, do you actually think I could stop loving you?" She lifted his head. "Look at me," she said. "I will _never_ stop loving you. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, I'll love you. You're part of me. Don't you know that by now, Jack? After everything we went through to be together?"

"I get so scared," he said. "I don't know where I am. I hear things, and I know they're not real, but I can't stop. I did awful things, Rose. You can't imagine."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You did what you had to do so you could survive. I'm glad you did. You're here; that's what matters," she said. "I was so afraid of losing you. Every day I waited for them to tell me you were gone."

"I'm here," he said. He kissed her hungrily.

"You jump, I jump right?"

Jack smiled slightly. "Right." He kissed her again.

Rose sighed. "We can't do this."

"I know. I just—I need to feel close to you. I miss you, Rose."

"I miss you too. It hasn't been that long though. We've survive longer," she said. "You need to sleep," she added, brushing the hair away from his face. "Or at least try. I'll keep watch."

Rose sat against a tree, her gun under one hand. Jack lay against her, his head on her shoulder. Her free arm held him tightly. Eventually, he managed to fall asleep.

….

They were up at dawn. Breakfast was eaten quickly, and after a quick round of washing up, they were off again. They walked in the same order as before.

"I can carry something," Jack said, as he watched Rose adjust the bags hanging from her shoulders. Her back was straight, but he could see how heavy they were.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "And you shouldn't be carrying things."

"I've got a good arm," he reminded her. "One bad won't kill me."

"I'd rather not take the chance," she replied, kissing his cheek.

Jack turned to Cal. "Hey, you tell her to let me carry something," he said.

"I don't tell her to do anything," Cal replied, not unpleasantly. "I know where that gets us."

"You know I'm right," Rose said. "He shouldn't be overexerting himself."

"No, he probably shouldn't be," Cal said. "Be glad you have someone to look after you," he added to Jack.

"Don't think I'm not," Jack said, looking at Rose. "Let me fuss over _you_ , some will ya?" he said in a quiet voice.

"When I'm the one that's hurt, you can," she said.

"When I'm better, " he promised.

Outwardly, things were going fine. They were making good time. It wasn't quite as hot as the previous day. But Samantha's placid demeanor hid desperate thoughts. Her aversion to leaving the island was growing. She couldn't imagine living anywhere else anymore, and she wondered how she ever had. That girl who hosted parties and had two houses and an endless stream of visitors, who patronized museums and had a closet half the size of her bedroom, had that really been her? It didn't seem possible; that life meant nothing to her now. Cal was like a stranger. As far as she was concerned, they were no longer married. It felt like they had never been.

Samantha wanted things to stay the same. New fears kept appearing. If they went back to the world, he rhappiness wouldn't last. She'd have no peace. Cal wouldn't try to make her stay with him, but their families might, for appearance's sake. Neither clan would be eager for the scandal a divorce would cause. And what then? Could she stand up to the pressure? Could Clarence? Would he even want to? Perhaps he would decide being with her was just not worth it. With plenty of girls to choose from, he might decide to find one that was less trouble. Samantha glanced at him. The thought of losing him was unbearable. If they found the treasure they'd try and leave. There was no changing that. Her eyes found the map. But if they didn't find it, they'd remain where they were. And where was the harm in that? They were better off here than they would be anywhere else. Surely the others would realize it too.

…..

It was nearly lunchtime when Rose's stomach began bothering her. At first she thought it was just hunger pangs, but when a wave of nausea, followed by dizziness washed over her, she knew it was something more. She breathed slowly, trying to make the world stand still again. She felt herself about to throw up and held it back. Her face was pale despite the heat.

"Rose?" Jack's voice was concerned. He put a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," she said. "I'm just a little dizzy. It's probably the heat." Her stomach lurched again, and she could barely hold it back.

"Come sit down," Jack said, taking one of her bags.

"No. I—"

"Yes," he said firmly. She allowed him to lead her to a shady spot. "We're stopping," he called to the others.

"What's wrong?" Cal asked. Clarence and Samantha joined them under the tree.

"Why're we stopping?" Clarence asked.

"Rose's sick," Jack said.

"I'm not sick," Rose said. "I'm just a little dizzy. I need to sit down for a minute."

"You don't look so good," Samantha said, sitting down. "Maybe we shouldn't go any further today."

"No, we can," Rose said. "I don't want to put us behind. Maybe food will help."

"Here," Jack said, offering her some water. It felt good in her dry mouth, but it made her stomach tremble.

"We'll have lunch and then see how things are," Clarence said.

"I'll be able to go on," Rose said.

"We'll see," Jack said.

The smell of food made Rose feel even sicker. She tried to eat, but after a few bites she couldn't hold back anymore. They watched, shocked, as she ran over to a clump of bushes and threw up. Jack hurried over to her. She was on her knees. He pulled her hair back; she was shaking, and her skin felt clammy.

"Feel any better?" he asked.

She shook her head. Before she could speak her stomach heaved again. When it was finally over Jack helped her to the stream. The others looked the other way while she cleaned up. Her legs wobbled when she walked. She tried not to lean on Jack, but she had to. When they were back in the circle she lay against him. Her rubbed her belly slowly.

"We're not going any further today," Jack said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Let's set up camp then," Clarence said.

"Do you need anything?" Cal asked. "I mean, does she—"

"I think she just needs rest," Jack said. "Unless, do you think you could eat something now?" he asked Rose.

"Not yet," she said. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into Jack's bare chest. Her heard hurt, but at least his scent didn't turn her stomach.

"Well, let me know what I can do," Cal said.

"I will. Thanks," Jack replied. He looked down at Rose, worry in his eyes. Where had this come from? What was it? He wasn't sure knowing would make him feel any better. What could they do about it, even if they did know?

….

"What if we don't make it?" Samantha said. She and Clarence sat away from the others; they spoke in low tones.

"We'll make it," he said confidently. "Once Rose's feeling better, we'll get back out."

"What if that's days from now? Don't you think we should be thinking about heading back?" Samantha was motivated by concern for Rose just as much as by her desire to never find the treasure. If she were truly ill, Samantha reasoned, the camp was the best place for her. They had more supplies there, beds, better access to water.

"We don't know she's that bad," he replied. "It's probably just the heat, like she said."

Rose tried to eat again that evening, but everything she managed to swallow came back up. Her stomach muscled ached, and her throat burned. She was ashamed of being sick, of holding up the group, of needing so much help from Jack. But he gently washed her face and tied her hair back. The stream wasn't deep enough for a bath, so he helped her rinse herself off as best he could.

"I'm sorry you have to do this twice in one day," she said.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "I'd never ignore you when you need me."

"You're hurt. You should be resting."

"I'm getting better. I haven't felt any pain in hours," he said. He didn't add that he was too worried about her to feel anything else.

She put her face in her hands. "I wish I knew what's causing this. It just came out of nowhere."

"Do you think it could have been something you ate?" he asked.

"We all eat the same things, though."

"Maybe it was a bad fish," he suggested.

"Maybe. It's possible. I hope no-one else gets sick," she said wearily. "You may want to stay away from me tonight, if you don't have it already."

"I'm not gonna do that," Jack said. He made a bed for them under the tree. "Lay on me," he said, putting his good arm around her. The others took turns keeping watch, but it was tacitly agreed he and Rose wouldn't.

Samantha had the third watch. Everyone was asleep. The silence was heavy. The whole island seemed to be holding its breath. She tried to ignore the urge, but it wouldn't go away. Slowly, she crept over to where Clarence lay. The map stuck out of the bag next to him. She eased it out, afraid the rustle of the paper would wake him. She paused, map in hand, sure one of them would stir at any second. But no-one did.

She went over to a patch of moonlight and unrolled the map. Clarence had marked their progress so far. The rest of the trip was clearly laid out. If they stuck to the trail, there was no way they could go wrong. As an added precaution, Clarence was marking the trail again so they could find their way back, just in case they did get lost somehow.

Slowly, she rubbed an eraser over a portion of the route. The map was old, and it didn't take much to blot out the faded writing.


	14. Chapter 14

Clarence didn't notice the changes in the map. He hadn't studied it well enough to see any differences, even major ones. He looked over the basic route a few times before they left, but that was it. He knew some of the landmarks because he had been fascinated by stories about hidden treasure when he first went to sea. As he got out the map to check their progress, Samantha tried not to look at him. She was sure her face would give away what she had done.

"Rose, are you alright?" Jack asked, bending over her.

"I think so," Rose answered. "I'm not dizzy anymore. My stomach is still a little wobbly, though." It sounded silly in her ears, but she couldn't think of a better word to describe it.

"Do you think you can eat?" he asked. "Would that help?"

"I don't know. Maybe." The thought of eating made her nervous. She was hungry, famished actually, but hunger was preferable to another round of throwing up in the bushes. She felt Jack studying her, searching for clues as to what was wrong, and wished she could tell him.

"I'll get you something," he said. "Something mild." She just nodded and closed her eyes.

"Are you alright?" This time it was Cal asking. Rose opened her eyes to him looking down at her with concern. It was surreal, seeing Cal wearing an expression so similar to Jack's. It was almost amusing. That was some comfort, at least. "I'm fine," she said. "Thank you."

"If you need anything, you can ask," he said, somewhat awkwardly. "I'm sure Jack has everything taken care of, but…" He trailed off. "He's hurt, so…"

"Thank you," Rose said warmly. "I'm fine, really, but if that changes, you'll know."

"Maybe this isn't the right time," Cal said. "But Rose, I want you to know, I'm your friend too, not just Jack's."

"You and he are friends?" she joked. "I know you are," she added, seriously. "My friend, that is. And I'm glad. There's no reason for us to hate one another."

"No," he agreed.

Rose smiled as Jack approached. He sat down and offered her a place of banana slices and crackers. "I figured this wouldn't make you sick," he explained. "Got you some water too."

Rose drank greedily, emptying the cup. "Thank you," she said.

"I'll get you more," Jack said.

"No, you don't have to," she said. She forced herself to eat slowly. The bananas were the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.

"Good?" Jack said.

"Incredible," she answered.

"You think you'll be able to travel today?" he asked. "We don't hate to, if you don't feel up to it."

"I can do it," she said. "There's no reason to get even further behind."

"If you're sick, that's a reason," he said. "Pushing yourself won't get you any better."

"We'll stop if I start feeling sick again," she said. "I'll tell you."

"You promise?"

"Jack, I promise," she said.

"You heard that," Jack said, glancing over at Cal.

…..

For the first few hours Rose really did feel better. She walked at a steady pace. Her head was clear, her stomach settled. And then, suddenly, it all began coming back. Her stomach lurched in that all-too-familiar way. There was almost nothing in it, but what little she had managed to eat threatened to spill out. She clenched her jaw and tried to ignore it. Her head spun. She had to focus on each step to keep from stumbling.

Something went wrong. She couldn't tell what. Her foot couldn't seem to find the ground. Rose reached for Jack instinctively, not caring anymore if he knew she was ill. She grabbed his arm, barely staying upright. "Rose?" he said. He put his arm around her. She slumped against him. "Rose!" he cried, lifting her head. Pain shot through his arm, but he didn't notice.

"Something's wrong," she said. "Jack…."

By then the others had stopped. Cal hurried over to them. "What happened?" he asked. "It looked like she fell."

"I'm not sure," Jack said. Still ignoring the pain, he picked her up. Her body was limp in his arms.

"Is she alright?" Samantha asked.

"No," Jack said. He carried her over to a shady spot and gently lay her on the grass. Rose's eyes were closed. She thought it would make the world stop spinning, but it didn't. The ground even seemed to be moving under her. She held her mouth closed, but it was a losing battle. She rolled over and tried to crawl away.

Jack reached out to stop her. "Rose, what're you doing?"

Rose looked at him pleadingly. She couldn't speak. It wasn't safe to speak. Fortunately, he understood. He scooped her up and carried her further into the trees.

Rose shook. A thin layer of sweat covered her body. Jack held her steady and kept her hair back. Finally, her stomach stopped heaving. Her head ached. Her ribs were sore. She felt empty, not purged, just flat.

"C'mon," Jack said, picking her up. She didn't resist as he carried her over to the water. She couldn't have even if she wanted to. Rose lay still, like a doll, while he undressed her. The water was deeper here. He lowered her down into it and gently bathed her. Rose knew she should feel ashamed of being so helpless, but all she felt was grateful for Jack.

The cold water cleared her head. It felt good on her skin. "You're using both hands," she said, noticing for the first time.

"Am I?" he said lightly. "Close your eyes so we can rinse your hair."

"You shouldn't be," she said, when he lifted her up again. "It can't be good for your arm. Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's fine," Jack said. "Don't worry about it."

"You aren't serious. Jack, you were shot. It hasn't healed yet."

"I know, but I'm getting better. It's fine," he insisted. "You need this arm." He laid a hand on her belly, careful not to press down. "You feel any better now?"

"I think so," Rose said. "The water helped."

"I figured it would."

"Thank you." Had she said anything else that morning? It felt like she hadn't. She just repeated those two words over and over again.

Meanwhile, the others were discussing Rose's condition. "What do you think is wrong?" Samantha asked.

"Who knows?" Clarence said. "There's a lot of things that can cause those symptoms."

"You don't think she'll stay sick, do you?" Samantha said worriedly. "Or get worse?" She looked from Clarence to Cal, waiting for an answer. "She'll get better, won't she?"

None of them wanted to face the possibility that a member of their group might die. Jack had been shot, but that was different. He was fine now. It wasn't a _serious_ injury. After their initial shock wore off, it didn't seem so bad. They'd already survived an attempted hijacking and shipwreck. An illness couldn't be enough to lessen their number, could it?

"She'll recover," Cal said confidently. "Rose is….She's a strong woman. She's made it through a lot."

"We all have," Samantha said.

"Not as much as us, especially them," Cal said quietly. He looked off into the trees. Clarence shot him a curious look; he was about to speak when they heard Jack and Rose approaching.

Jack carried her. Rose's arms hung limply around his neck. It didn't matter. Even with an injured shoulder he wouldn't drop her. They were shocked by her ashen appearance. "She looks worse," Samantha whispered. Clarence put a hand on her arm, as if he could protect her from whatever Rose had.

"You're using both arms," Cal said.

"I need both arms," Jack replied. They exchanged meaningful glances.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Samantha said.

"No," Jack replied.

"I told him not to," Rose said. "He wouldn't listen. He's stubborn."

"And you aren't?" Jack said. To the others he added, "I'm gonna take Rose to lie down."

"Or we could keep going," Rose suggested. "After a few steps, I'll be able to handle it. Or you could carry me."

"No," Jack said.

"But, Jack—" she began.

"No," he said firmly. "We'll get there when we get there." Without waiting for a response from the others, he turned and left.

"I guess that settles it," Cal said.

"Do you still think we shouldn't go back?" Samantha asked, turning to Clarence.

"I still think we shouldn't go back," Clarence replied.

"Why do _you_ get to decide?" Cal asked.

Clarence's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Why do you get to decide," Cal repeated, slowly. "You aren't the leader."

"I'm not?" Clarence said sharply.

"No, you aren't," Cal shot back. "We don't have one. Or did you forget?"

"Is this really coming from you, the guy who'd be dead by now if he were on his own?" Clarence snapped. " _You're_ challenging my judgment?"

Cal drew himself up to his full height. He fixed an icy gaze on Clarence. Suddenly, he wasn't an overwhelmed castaway or a jilted husband, he was Caledon Hockley, master of the universe. Clarence looked away, fuming silently. Cal chucked to himself. Jack wouldn't have looked away. Rose wouldn't have either. At least Samantha could have chosen someone challenging.

…

The grass smelled nice. Clean. Sweet. Rose breathed it in almost happily. Jack lay next to her. He slipped a hand into her clothes and rubbed her back. Her skin was cold; he moved closer, trying to warm her.

"I can't east," she said. There was fear in her voice. "I don't know what to do."

"You're gonna be alright," he assured her.

"How?"

"We'll figure something out," Jack said. "We'll find something you can eat. And this can't last forever. These things, they always go away after a day or two."

"But what if it doesn't? Jack—"

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Don't say that," he said. "You'll get through this. I'll help you."

Rose wanted to believe him, but she saw her own fear in his eyes. She hadn't been this afraid in a long time, not even when the boat was being tossed around by the storm. She was afraid then, but she hadn't lost hope. No, this was more like the way she felt watching Jack get on the train, not knowing if she would ever see him again. The urge to fling herself after him had been overwhelming, but there was nowhere to go. She had been pulled back on to a sinking ship, but she would be taken off the train.

Rose wished they could go back and start again. She wished they could re-live every moment, knowing what they knew now. "I'd never let you go," she said, touching his face.

"What?"

"I was just talking to myself," she said.

Jack smiled. "You don't hafta do that. I'll talk to you."

"Would you? I don't want it to be so quiet anymore," she said. "It's—I don't want to think."

"How about I tell you what we'll do when we get back home," he suggested.

"Besides get new clothes and have hot baths?"

"Yeah, after that," he said.

"Tell me," she said.

….

"How is she doing?" Cal asked.

Jack sat against a tree. Rose lay across his lap, asleep. His hand rested on her shoulder. "A little better," he said. "She still hasn't really eaten."

"Do you have any idea what's wrong?"

"Not really," Jack said. "It reminds me of a stomach flu, but don't you usually get that from someone else?"

"I thought so," Cal said. "Maybe you can get it other ways."

"Maybe. I hope that's all this is." He stroked her hair. "I hate this. I can't do anything for her."

"You're doing plenty," Cal said. He sat down. "She would agree, if you asked her."

"Then why doesn't it feel like enough?" Jack asked.

"Because you're _you_ ," Cal replied.

Jack laughed wryly. "I don't think that's the reason. What's going on with everyone else?"

"The lovers are wrapped up in each other," Cal said, rolling his eyes. "And the degenerates are still safely contained. Things are calm."

"Not jealous, are you?"

"Of those two? No," Cal said. "I hate that miscreant, but it isn't because of Samantha."

"It's not?" Jack said.

"I know the difference. I hate the way he's appointed himself leader of the group," Cal said. "As if he's the best one to make all the decisions for the rest of us."

"He doesn't do that," Jack said. "We decide things together."

"Not anymore."

"What're you talking about?" Jack asked. "What's he decided?"

"Nothing really yet, but he's waiting for the chance. You've been too busy with Rose to notice. It didn't start until we left camp. And of course, Samantha supports him completely."

"I guess I haven't been paying much attention to what's been going on," Jack said.

"I don't blame you. You were shot, and now Rose…."

"You remember what we talked about?" Jack said.

Cal didn't have to ask what he meant. "Yes."

"I just want be sure you'll still be do it. If something happens to me, you'll take care of her. I don't care what she says. She'll need someone, especially if things are going the way you said. You'll both need someone."

"I'll do it," Cal promised.

"I don't want to think about her being alone," Jack said. "Especially here. We're alone enough already."

"It's funny, isn't it? You asking _me_ to do this?" Cal said.

"Yeah. But it kinda makes sense too. You're closer to us than anyone else, if you think about it."

"Samantha was talking about going back to camp, because of Rose," Cal said.

"Really?"

"He doesn't want to. He said we won't."

"So, that's what he's deciding for the group?" Jack said, frowning. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Cal said. "It doesn't seem like we'll make any progress either way until Rose gets better."

"I can carry her," Jack said. "But if she stays sick, I'd just as soon carry her back to camp. No point in putting her through all that."

"Samantha doesn't want to go home," Cal pointed out. "This is just an excuse not to keep going."

"I know she doesn't, but there's nothing stopping the rest of you from going on," Jack said. "Me and Rose can go back by ourselves."

"I'm not sure I can go with just those two. I may hurt him."

"It can't be that bad," Jack said. "You're not jealous, remember? And you'll have the degenerates to talk to."

"I'd rather talk to them sometimes," Cal grumbled. "Instead of that child who speaks to me as if I have no intelligence whatsoever."

"So, that's problem. He doesn't take your seriously enough. I didn't know the guy who runs off with your wife was supposed to take you seriously. I didn't," Jack said.

"Didn't you?"

"No. You scared Rose, but a real man doesn't scare women," Jack replied. "You had behind your money. That's all you had over me."

"I should be offended," Cal said.

"Why? It's the truth."

"I know. It isn't a terribly pleasant truth, though, is it?" Cal said.

….

Water. Bananas. Crackers. That was all Rose could eat, and keeping that down was difficult at times. Her body seemed bent on rejecting food even as if begged for sustenance. Clarence and Samantha kept their distance from her. Cal offered help, though he had nothing really to give.

"I'll be better tomorrow," Rose said. "And we can go on."

"Don't push yourself," Jack said. "I want you healthy, too. The others can always go on without us."

"Do you think it will come to that?" she asked.

"No," he said reassuringly. "I think some more rest is all you need. You've been feeling alright since dinner, right/"

"Right."

"See, you're getting better," he said. "If you don't feel up to the rest of the trip we can go back," he added.

"I don't want to go back. I want to see this mysterious place for myself," she said. "Don't you?"

"I'm curious."

"But?"

"But I hope Clarence's right," Jack said. "And he knows where we're going."

"I'm sure he does. Why didn't you say anything about this before?"

"I wasn't worried about it before," he said.

Rose took his hand. "Jack, if I—"

"Don't," he said. "Don't you do that."

"But—"

"Look, you're sick, but you're gonna be fine. I'm gonna take care of you, Rose," he said.

"I wish you wouldn't use your injured arm," she said. "You're probably making it worse."

"It was almost better. It's okay."

Rose pressed her hands to his face and kissed him. She wanted to believe she was just sick; she wanted to believe it would end. But this didn't feel like a simple illness. She couldn't have told him why, only that her body had never felt this way.


	15. Chapter 15

For the next few days Rose spent most of her time sleeping. She ate but not as much as she normally did. By the fourth day, tensions within the group were running high. Samantha wanted to go back. Clarence wanted to press on. Jack was adamant that nothing disturb Rose. Cal sided with Jack, though he would have liked to keep going. He knew if Samantha got her way they would never try again. They'd be stuck there forever.

Clarence grumbled, but he didn't argue too much. Jack wasn't to be crossed, especially not about Rose. He didn't have to yell or make threats to intimidate. His quiet stare was enough.

Smith and Thomas noticed the changes. They only heard snatches of conversation, but they figured out the alliances. They saw Rose's condition, Jack's worry, the mounting tension. This was something they could use. No-one was watching them closely anymore. Cal made sure they were still bound, but he didn't stand guard. What was the point? They weren't going anywhere.

They waited patiently for an opportunity. All they needed was a sharp rock or shell. For someone to drop their gun. Or a knife. Which is exactly what Samantha dropped. She didn't like going near them, but it was her turn to bring them water. She tried to hurry, but she was too nervous. Smith leered at her. She kept her head down and didn't look at him. Thomas lunged forward, as far as he could; she jumped back. The knife fell out of her pocket. She never noticed. Thomas retrieved it with his foot. They exchanged triumphant glances. Finally.

….

"We aren't going back," Clarence said. "That's a waste of time."

"We're wasting time already," Samantha argued. "Obviously, we aren't supposed to do this."

"Yes, we are," he insisted. "We're supposed to get off this island."

"Why is that all anyone ever cares about?" Samantha demanded. "I thought at least _you'd_ be on my side."

"I am, but—"

"He's right," Jack said. He ignored their curious looks. "We've gotta get off this island. We can't stay here forever."

"What about Rose?" Cal asked.

"She's getting better. If that keeps us, we'll go on in a few days," Jack replied. "As long as we all agree." He looked around the small circle. "Do we agree?" His gaze lingered on Clarence."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Clarence said. "I agree."

"I'm just making sure everyone remembers how we do things," Jack said.

"What about Rose's vote?" Samantha said.

"She wants to keep going," Jack said. "She wants off the island. If she gets worse, I'll stay here with her or take her back myself. Either way, we've gotta get home."

Rose lay a few feet away, in the shade. Her back was to the group. When Jack came over she pretended to be asleep. "You heard everything, didn't you?" he said.

"Yes."

Jack sat down beside her. "Cal's right," he said. "He does want control of the group."

"How can you tell?"

"I just see it. I don't know why, if he thinks he knows best, but he wants us to all go along with what he says."

"What does that mean for us?" Rose asked.

"Nothing. We're gonna keep on the way we have been. We need the others, and they need us too. But we don't need them enough to blindly follow someone," he said.

"He's right, though. You said it yourself."

"About going on? Yeah, he's right about that. Assuming he knows where we're going," Jack said.

"He's got the maps. He knows how to read them."

"I guess he does," he said. He gently rubbed her belly. "How're you feeling?"

"Better. You were right. Resting has helped," she said. "I think I can eat."

"Really? What do you want?"

"Potatoes," she said. "Fried in bacon grease, the way you do it, with pepper on top."

"That does sound good," he said. "What else?"

"Bread. Hot, sweet rolls with butter. Milk. Real milk. Roast beef."

Jack's stomach growled. They are the same things over and over again. He was starting to dread mealtimes. "Is that all?"

"Pie," Rose said. "No, cake."

"Both," he said.

"Alright. Both."

He kissed her forehead. "They're making lunch. I'll bring you something."

…

Rose wasn't sure exactly when she knew. It happened gradually, until, one moment, she realized she was certain about it. She wondered how she could ever have doubted it. She felt her body changing. They were small changes, but taken all together, they meant only one thing.

She laughed when the realization hit her. Of course. Now, it all made sense. She wasn't dying. She moved closer to Jack. He looked at her. She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. The others were talking, but she didn't hear any of it. Her mind was too full. She tried imagining the baby. She practiced telling Jack. He would be happy. Of course he would be. He wanted children. They both did.

But then she remembered where they were, and her joy faded. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They couldn't raise a child on a deserted island. Hadn't she been the one to say that? Hadn't she made Jack promise they would be careful?

But they hadn't been, at least, not careful enough.

Jack put his arm around her. Rose wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. This was supposed to be _good_ thing. She was supposed to be happy. She wasn't supposed to worry about telling Jack or dying and leaving him alone with a baby to raise.

That prospect frightened her the most. What if she died? If the baby didn't come easily, none of them would know what to do. Rose forced herself to breathe slowly. They would find a way off the island. They just had to.

…..

"I want to keep going." Rose's back was straight, her voice firm and clear. She was starting to look healthy again. There was color in her cheeks at least. Jack frowned. Her mysterious illness was as unsettling as her sudden determination to be healthy; apparently, stubbornness was as good as medicine. He wouldn't have thought it possible. More importantly, he didn't like it. She didn't need to do it. Jack feared this recovery would be followed by an even worse decline.

"What if you can't?" he said.

"I can."

"You don't know that, Rose," he said.

"You don't know I can't," she replied.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I just want to finally get there," Rose said. "I want us to get off this island or find out once and for all that we can't." She believed they would find exactly what they sought. She lay awake all night, convincing herself.

"No, this is different," Jack said.

"It isn't."

"Just tell me, Rose." He looked at her closely. "Something happened. What is it?"

"Nothing," she insisted.

"Something."

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself," Jack said. "Tell me why this is worth risking your health."

"Because we have to get off the island. We have to go home." Her voice rose. "We can't stay here, Jack. We were foolish to think we could."

"I want to leave as badly as you do, but it hasn't been that bad here, has it?" Jack touched her hair. "Parts of this have been nice, right?"

"Parts of it," she agreed wearily. "But we have to go. Jack, please, don't fight with me."

"I'm not fighting you," he said. "I just wanna know why you—"

"I'm pregnant." The words burst from her mouth before she could stop them.

Jack stared at her, stunned. "What?" he said.

"I'm pregnant," she said again, calmly. "You heard me."

His mind raced. "When—how?" He sputtered.

Rose chuckled wryly. "Do you really need me to tell you how?"

"But we were—we were careful," he said.

"Obviously not careful enough."

"How do you feel about this?" he asked.

"Terrified. This can't happen here. But happy, too. I want this baby. Jack, I want it so much."

"Me too," he said.

….

The next morning they packed up and set out again. Rose carried nothing, at Jack's insistence. "You'll hurt your arm," she warned.

"I'll be fine," he said.

They stopped to rest more often than before. The heat was unbearable. They threw themselves into the cold water, clothes on, for relief. Occasionally, Cal tossed a bucket of water over Smith and Thomas. They said nothing. They glared and bided their time. Soon, they would make their move.

"How're you feeling?" Jack asked. Rose twisted her damp hair and repined it. She was tempted to cut it off completely.

"I'm fine," she said.

"You sure?"

"I'm not going to break, Jack," she said. "Everything's alright. I'm eating again, aren't I?"

"You'll tell me if you need to stop, won't you?" he said. "You're not gonna push yourself too hard?"

"I want to get there, but I'm not going to hurt either of us to do it," she replied. "Don't worry."

"How am I not supposed to worry?" Jack moved a stray curl away from her face. "What's it feel like?"

"It doesn't feel like much of anything yet," she answered. "I just, know there's something there." She put a hand on her stomach. "I can't explain it."

Jack put his hand over hers. They looked at each other, and for a moment everything else faded away. He allowed himself a smile. "I really am happy about this," he said. "We didn't plan it, but this is gonna be a good thing."

His words reassured her. If they came from anyone else, Rose wouldn't have believed them, but Jack's unfailing optimism always made her feel better. "We should keep going," she said. She kissed his palm.

"Yeah," he said.

"How far away are we?" Cal asked, as they prepared to leave.

Clarence pulled a map out of his bag. To Samantha's dismay, it wasn't the one she changed. "We're over halfway there," he said. "If we go a little faster, we can be there by tomorrow night."

"We're fine the way we are," Jack said.

"But if we don't stop so much we'll get there sooner," Clarence said. "And then we can get back and camp and start working on a way out of here."

"You need the breaks as much as we do," Cal said. "It's too hot not to stop."

"Too hot for some of us," Clarence muttered. Jack shot him a dark look.

"Let's just go," Rose said.

….

There was little conversation as they made camp for the night. Clarence fumed about the lack of progress. Why wouldn't anyone listen to him? Like Cal, he was accustomed to being in charge, and for a while, it had seemed like he was. The others deferred to his experience, but that wasn't happening anymore. Jack had his own survival skills, and Cal had snapped out of his depression. Rose wouldn't side with anyone over Jack. Trying to win her over was a waste of time. Only Samantha believed in him, and they always overruled her.

"Go rest," Jack said. "I'll get this done."

"I can help," Rose said.

'I know you can, but go rest anyway. Please?" he said.

Rose sighed. "Alright. But we're fine. We're a little sick, but we're fine."

"And you're gonna stay that way."

Cal watched Rose walk away. "Is she alright?" he asked, going over to Jack.

"She's fine," Jack replied. "She needs rest."

"She looks better."

"You think?" Jack said. "I hope so."

"You don't look so good, though," Cal observed.

"I'm fine. Just…tired. Why can't we get along anymore? Why are we always jumping at each other?' Jack said. His shoulders slumped.

"We're all tired," Cal said. "We're worried. We can't to go home. We all want to be in control."

"That's not true. I don't want to be in control."

"Sure you do. You want to make sure Rose is okay. So, you're doing whatever you think is best for her, no matter what anyone else says," Cal said.

"Don't I have that right?" Jack asked.

"I'm not saying you don't," Cal said.

"I don't want to tell everyone what to do. I just want us all to get there in one piece. If that means it takes a little longer, fine," Jack said. "Clarence is just pushing us because he doesn't like being challenged. If it were the other way around, he'd be doing exactly what I've been doing, and so would you."

"For myself, maybe," Cal joked. "No, you're right. And even we healthy ones can only do so much in this heat. I feel like I'm in hell."

"Maybe we are."

"Don't say that," Cal said. "I have to go rinse off the degenerates. I wouldn't get to do that in hell."

"You like that?" Jack said.

"I like how much they hate it," Cal replied.

"You're sadistic."

"I don't warm up to people who try to murder me for no reason. I'm funny that way," Cal said.

"You tried to kill me and Rose," Jack reminded him.

"I had reasons," Cal said, over his shoulder.

And they could have been worse, Jack thought. He wouldn't have responded that way, but he understood the emotions behind Cal's actions. He would do anything to keep Rose, too. Who wouldn't? But if she ever wanted to go, he wouldn't stop her. Of course, it was easy for him to think that. He didn't believe she would ever want to.

Cal was wrong, he decided. He didn't want control. He didn't want to decide things for the others. He just didn't want things decided for them, especially if their needs were considered. The entire group mattered. They needed one another. He'd said it often enough, and the others agreed. If one of them was hurt or ill, they all had to deal with it. Jack helped smooth things over when Clarence and Samantha wanted to be together. They could return the favor now; it was only fair.

…..

It was even hotter the next day. By mid-afternoon even Clarence agreed to a break without complaining. "We're so close," he said, studying the map. "Let's just camp here." Sweat dripped into his eyes; his legs felt like jelly.

"Good idea," Jack said amiably.

They washed up and spread out to rest. Rose settled on a bed of leaves beneath a tree. Jack took some paper and went off to draw, hoping to clear his head. Clarence and Samantha headed out of sight, and Cal did too. None of them thought twice about splitting up. Jack glanced at Smith and Thomas. They were securely bound. Rose wasn't close to them. She'd be fine. They watched him ho. When he was out of sight, the knife appeared. Freeing themselves didn't take long.

They hadn't planned for it to be Rose; this was just convenience, but they were glad it was her. They hated her the most.

She never heard them coming. They crept across the grass. Her eyes flew open when they grabbed her. Her mouth was covered by a large hand. She was being carried, her limbs pinned. She didn't think. There wasn't time for thought; instinct took over.

Rose fought with all her strength. Twisting. Kicking. She managed to free one of her feet, which she sent into Thomas's face. He stumbled, dropping her other leg. She heard cursing. Her arm was twisted, but she didn't feel the pain. She fought like cat, biting the hand that silenced her. "Jack!" she screamed, wrenching herself free. She ran, screaming for him. They chased her; their footfalls echoed in her ears.

Suddenly, one of them landed on her back, throwing her to the ground. She rolled over, punching and clawing wildly. She felt her hair being pulled. A hand hit her face. The pain was sharp. She didn't feel the second blow. Rose shoved her knee forward, as hard as she could. An anguished cry told her she'd succeeded.

Somehow she was on her feet again. One of them, she didn't know which, moved toward her. Rose's heart pounded. She wanted to run, but her feet refused to move. A knife gleamed in his hand.

Jack's voice rang out like a bell. "Get down, Rose." She dropped to the ground without hesitation. Now, her body worked.

First one shot, then another, and then it was over.


	16. Chapter 16

Jack hugged his knees, staring at the water. He hadn't spoken since it happened. At first Rose just lay there, frozen. She heard the groans and raised her head in time to see blood spreading over the grass. The gun slipped from Jack's hand. His eyes were wide with disbelief. The others ran toward them.

"It's alright, Jack," Rose said slowly, putting her arms around him. "It will be alright." He looked at her; his mouth opened, but nothing came out. Rose pressed her cheek to his. "You didn't do anything wrong," she said. He moved his head, not quite managing to shake it for "No."

"What happened?" Clarence demanded. Samantha gasped at the bodies. "Are they-" she began.

"I think so," Rose said.

Cal went over to them. "Yes," he said grimly. It was obvious. One bullet in each. Jack's aim was impeccable. "About time," he muttered to himself.

"Don't say that," Rose hissed. Jack flinched.

"What?" Cal said. "What's wrong with him?"

"Why did it happen?" Clarence asked.

"Well, clearly, they got free," Cal said.

"Thanks for that observation," Clarence snapped.

"You're welcome," Cal replied politely. Rose's face was already dark with bruises. "They bothered you, didn't they?" Cal said, no trace of sarcasm in his voice now.

"That's one way of putting it," Rose said. "You know what happened next."

"I told you we shouldn't keep them around," Cal said. "It was too much risk. This was bound to happen sooner or later. What if Jack hadn't gotten here in time?"

"Maybe if you had been watching them," Clarence said. "This wouldn't have happened."

"Why me?" Cal snapped. "Am I the only one who was supposed to watch them? Am I the only one capable of watching them?"

"It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" Samantha said. Her voice wobbled. "It's over."

Jack laid his head on Rose's shoulder and closed his eyes. He wished they would be quiet. Their voices buzzed in his ears; behind them, he heard the shots, and behind that, steadily growing louder, were the sounds of war. He shuddered. His feet felt wet. It was all coming back, every bit of it, whether he liked it or not. "Come on, Jack," Rose said softly. She took his hand. He let her lead him over to the stream. "Sit down," she said. She knelt beside him. "Put your hands in." She washed his hands slowly; she cupped her palms and poured water over his head. Eventually, the noise began to recede until it was only a dull hum. She lifted his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, Jack," she said. "I know it seems like you did, but you didn't. You were protecting us." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I love you."

Now the three of them were figuring out what to do while Jack tried to sort through what happened. It _was_ wrong, no matter what his reasons were, but he couldn't say he would do anything differently if given the chance. He would kill them both with his bare hands if it meant protecting Rose, and now there was the baby to think about too. Jack knew what they would have done to her. His hands curled into fists. Anger flared in him. He hadn't been angry at the time; he'd been calm. He saw Rose; he saw the two of them; everything was so perfectly clear. The gun was in his hand. He knew what to do. It was like the War. He was out of himself, just watching it all happen.

And then he wasn't. He slammed back into his body like a brick falling from a rooftop. The gun was heavy in his hand, and he couldn't stand holding it any longer. He felt sick; his stomach twisted. Rose was looking at him, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. She was horrified. She had to be. This was it. This was when she left, when she stopped loving him, when she saw what kind of man he really was. She'd told him she understood about the War, but she couldn't possibly. She wasn't there. She didn't see the things he did. She saw this, though, and there was no way she could ever forgive him.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm sorry it happened," Cal said. "None of you are, and you know it. I'm sorry it's affected Jack so much. I'm sorry Rose was hurt. But that's all."

"What a callous thing to say," Samantha said, glaring at him.

"Don't act like you care," Cal replied. "It could just as easily have been you. Clarence may not be the marksman Jack is, though."

"Can we please stop talking about it?" Rose said. "It's awful, no matter how you look at it. Yes, they were terrible people. Yes, they would have killed us all. But Jack was right. It wasn't up to us to punish them, not like this. He was just doing what he had to do," she said. "I'm sure he'd take it back if he could."

"Why?" Clarence said. "Maybe it was wrong, but we're a lot safer now. He certainly couldn't have talked them into leaving you alone. If he hadn't done it, you might be dead now. Or worse."

"Just shut up about it," Rose said. "No, he couldn't have just talked to them, but that doesn't mean he's glad about what he did or that we should be either." She put her arms around herself. It was surreal thinking so much about death when there was this new life beginning inside her. She wanted to tell them, but it was too soon. Cal looked at her, and she wondered if he suspected. "I'm going to check on Jack," she said.

Jack turned his head at the sound of her approach. He tried to smile and held out his hand. His eyes were as heavy as the day he came home from the War. "Oh, Jack," she whispered. She touched his face. "What can I do, darling?"

"Nothing. I have to deal with it on my own."

Rose held his hands between hers. She kissed his fingertips. "We're going to keep going in the morning," she said.

"I'm glad."

"We should be there by tomorrow night, if we try," she said. "And then, getting back will be easy. We'll start working on a boat. We'll leave; we'll go home."

"Home." Jack repeated. The word was so odd. They didn't have one, at least, not a geographic one. Home wasn't a place for them; it was a feeling. Jack felt home when he was with Rose. He found himself wondering about the baby. Could they travel with it? He looked at her. Her eyes were so soft; he saw love in her face. "Yes," she said, answering his unspoken question. "I think we can, after a while."

"I hope so," he said. "I want her to see things. Or him. I don't care which."

"Neither do I." Rose brushed his hair back. "Do you want to eat dinner with the others?"

"No. I don't think I can eat. I don't wanna see anyone for a while either," he replied.

"I'll leave you alone."

"I wasn't talking about you," Jack said. "You're not _anyone_. You're Rose."

"Well, that's good to know."

He almost smiled. "Rose, you know what I mean."

…

They slept away from the others, near the water. Jack liked the sound of it. It wasn't as loud as the ocean, but it soothed him. It sounded calm. Rose held him. His hand rested on her shoulder; he wrapped his legs around her. His sleep was thin; more than once he woke up, gasping, not sure where he was. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him back to sleep.

The next morning they set out again. The heat wasn't so bad now, and they were able to move faster. There was a solemnity about the group that hadn't been there before. Jack stayed close to Rose. They all stayed closer than they normally did. Jack knew they wanted to ask about what happened. He heard the questions they weren't asking. They wanted him to describe it; they wanted him to justify his actions or condemn himself, anything but this silence. They wanted to know how it made him feel, as if looking at him didn't tell the whole story.

Jack had no answers to give. It made him feel sick. Empty. It brought back memories he tried so hard to keep buried. It brought back the worst moments of his life, days when he was cold and alone, beyond fear, when his survival meant someone else's death. Those men he shot at, they had friends. Families. Roses of their own they carried around in their pockets and wrote letters to. They couldn't all make it back home; someone had to stay there. It wasn't luck that kept him alive; it was a refusal to die.

When the noise became too great Jack stopped caring. He stopped being afraid and hurled himself onto the field. He thought of Rose, convinced he could somehow end the war single-handedly, if he just tried hard enough. He didn't, of course, but he did earn several commendations and a box of medals he tossed aside and refused to talk about. He wanted to throw them in the ocean, but Rose wouldn't let him.

"We're almost there," Clarence said, during lunch. He traced the route with his finger. "We could make it by tonight, if we keep this pace." Excitement gleamed in his eyes.

"Good," Cal said.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. Rose gave him an encouraging smile.

Clarence took the other map from his bag. Samantha watched him study it. His brow furrowed as he looked from one to the other. She stiffened; he knew something was wrong; he would know it was her fault; figuring that out would be easy.

Clarence didn't look at her, though. He looked at Cal, who met his stare defiantly. "What?" he said.

"Someone's tampered with the map," Clarence said.

"And why are you looking at me?" Cal demanded. "You don't think I did it, do you?"

"I didn't say you did," Clarence said.

"But you looked at me first," Cal said. "There's a reason."

"You think you're so special," Clarence snapped. "But-"

"Stop!" Rose ordered. "This won't help anything. Why would Cal want to tamper with the map?"

"Because he thinks it'll get to me," Clarence said.

"That's absurd," Cal cried. "I'd only be hurting myself. Do you think I want to stay on this island forever?"

"Why would any of us do it?" Rose asked. "No-one wants to be lost out here. We all want to go home."

"Samantha doesn't," Cal pointed out. Samantha scowled, her face suddenly pale.

"She wouldn't do this," Rose said. "She had enough sense to know we can't live here."

"You're too charitable, Rose," Cal said. "You always were."

"I'm _your_ friend, aren't I?" Rose replied.

"How do you know?" Jack asked. They all turned toward him, startled by the sound of his voice.

"They don't match anymore," Clarence said.

"When was the last time you looked at them both?" Jack asked. He sat straight; his eyes were focused.

"I don't know," Clarence said. "A few days ago. I've only been using one at a time."

"Are you sure that's the right one?" Jack said.

"I'm sure," Clarence answered. "I remembered most of the route, and besides, it stays near the water. This new one doesn't. No-one would trek across this island without access to fresh water. It would be insane."

"Whoever changed it didn't know what they were doing," Rose said.

"That sounds likely," Jack agreed.

"It couldn't have been…" Cal said. "Could it?"

Rose shook her head. "I don't see how."

"You're absolutely sure they were the same a few days ago?" Jack said.

"I know they were the same when we left," Clarence said. "I absolutely know that."

"Does it matter?" Samantha asked. "One map is right. Do we even need the other one?' She knew she shouldn't have spoken the moment she did. They all turned to stare at her.

"He's right," Jack said. "You're too charitable, Rose." To Samantha he added, "Why'd you do it?"

"Why do you think it was me?" Samantha demanded. "It could just as easily have been any one of you."

"You don't want to leave," Jack said matter-of-factly. "You've wanted to go back since we started, and you're the only nervous one."

"Why would you do that?" Clarence asked. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you _want_ us to get lost?"

"You marked a trail," Samantha said. "We wouldn't get lost. We'd just have to go back. I didn't realize you had two maps." She slumped down, defeated. "I don't want to leave," she said. "I don't have anything to go back to."

"What are you talking abou?" Clarence asked.

She gave him a pitying look. "Don't you know what will happen once we go back? _This_ will be over, no matter what we tell ourselves, it will be over. I'm not-" Her voice caught. "If we were anywhere else, you'd never look at me, and I'm not that strong. I don't know if I can…."

"Sp, you thought you'd try and trap us all here?" Cal said. "That makes sense."

"It doesn't sound completely unlike something you would have done," Rose said.

"No, I would have trapped you two here," Cal relied. " _I_ would have made it home."

Jack laughed. It was quiet at first, but it built until he threw his head back, tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, struggling for breath.

"Jack, are you alright?" Rose asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm fine, really." He wiped his eyes. "I needed that. I feel a little better now."

"I'm glad someone does," Clarence said glumly.

"You couldn't strand us on an island," Jack said, ignoring Clarence. "I'd figure out a way home."

"Sure you would," Cal scoffed.

"We survived before," Rose reminded him.

"What are you talking about?" Clarence asked. "Why're you acting like you three have some big secret?"

They exchanged looks. Jack laughed again. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just-We never thought to tell them."

"Tell us what?" Samantha said. "You aren't conspiring together, are you? About what, I couldn't guess."

"Not, they're just too close," Clarence said. "It's like they all knew each other before."

"Oh, that's impos-" Samantha stopped when she saw their faces. "You did know each other before?" she said incredulously.

"Yes," Rose said. "We knew Cal a long time ago."

"How?" Samantha asked. "Why? And why didn't you say anything about it?"

"The circumstances weren't-good," Rose said. "We weren't friends."

"They got married because of me," Cal said, with a dry chuckle.

"We met because of you," Jack corrected.

"That's hardly different," Cal said. "As if you didn't know you were going to run away together the first time you met."

"We didn't know that," Rose said.

Samantha and Clarence stared at them, united again. "What are you talking about?" Clarence asked.

"We were engaged, Cal and I," Rose said.

Recognition flashed in Samantha's eyes. "You aren't _her_ , are you?"'

"Yes, I believe I am," Rose said.

"But you died!" Samantha cried. "Everyone said you were dead. You were on that ship, and-"

"That's partly true," Rose said. "But as you can see, I'm not dead. That's where I met Jack," she explained. "We did sort of run away together."

"Sort of?" Cal said.

"Fine. We ran away together," Rose said. "We talked, danced, fell in love, and ran away together. Cal wasn't too pleased about it."

"He did everything he could to stop us," Jack said. "He's a terrible shot, fortunately."

"You can't be serious," Clarence said. "The three of you got together and made this up, didn't you? There's no way it's true."

"I'm afraid not," Jack said. "It's all true. There's a little more to it, but you know everything you need to."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Samantha asked again. "I don't understand. You and Jack are friends. How can you stand one another?"

"Why bring it up?" Rose said. "It wouldn't have helped anything, and the last thing we needed was a feud."

"We became friends," Jack said, glancing at Cal. "Somehow."

"We didn't have any choice," Cal said. "There wasn't much else to do here, or anyone to talk to."

"I suppose we don't count," Samantha said.

"No, not really," Cal replied. She scowled at him. "Don't act so offended," he said. "You prefer it this way."

"Are there any more secrets?" Clarence asked.

Rose looked at Jack. "Should I?" she whispered.

"If you want to," Jack said. "We might as well tell them."

Rose took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Cal's eyes widened. Samantha was speechless. "I wasn't expecting that," Clarence said.

"Neither was I," Rose said.

"So, that's why you've been sick," Cal said.

Rose nodded. "Yes. I'm still sick; it just isn't as bad right now. When I found out, it all started to make sense."

"How did you find out?" Samantha asked.

"There were little things," Rose said. "I can just tell. I don't know how to explain it."

"Can you be sure?" Cal said. He studied her, as if he could tell just by looking. "Could it be something else?"

Rose shook her head. "I know this is what it is. I'm certain."

"We really can't stay here now," Clarence said grimly. "No matter how much some of us might want to."

Samantha shrank from his words. "I'm sorry," she said. "What I did was wrong. I wasn't thinking about the rest of you. I thought we would fail, and then you'd all realize staying here isn't so bad."

"What're you so afraid of?" Clarence asked. "It's only been a few months; the world hasn't changed that much."

"We won't be together when we go back," she said sadly.

"Sure we will," Clarence said. "How can you say that?"

"Let's go," Rose said, taking Jack's hand. "You too," she added to Cal. "They need to talk."


	17. Chapter 17

It was dinnertime when they arrived. They walked slowly, exhausted from the journey and the revelations of the previous day. Jack and Rose walked together, as always, with Cal not far behind. Clarence led group, the map open in his hands. Samantha was behind him, moving slowly. They had barely spoken since her confession. Their attempts at conversation faded after a few words. He didn't trust her anymore, and there was no way around that.

Clarence stopped. He looked around; he looked at the map, then at their surroundings again. "We made it," he said, disbelief in his eyes. "We made it!" he yelled happily.

"Finally!" Rose cried. "I didn't think we ever would."

Jack dropped their gear on the ground. He stretched his arms over his head until they popped. "I didn't either," he said. "I was starting to think we were just gonna walk forever." He sat down next to Rose. "You alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm hungry, but that's nothing."

"We'll eat soon," Jack promised. He laid his hand over hers. She smiled. They looked at each other for a moment, glad to be together, no matter the circumstances. Samantha saw them and turned away; she felt Clarence's glance but kept her head down.

"What now?" Cal asked impatiently. "Where is this treasure we've heard so much about?"

"If it exists, or if it's still here," Clarence said. "It should be there." He pointed to the mouth of a cave. It was half hidden by trees. "They hid it somewhere in there."

"We're supposed to go wandering into a cave?" Cal said. "Do you know how deep it is? Do you have any idea where we're going? We could be lost in there for days."

"Not if we mark our trail," Clarence said. "Like we've been doing all along. We'll be able to find out way back out without any trouble." He spoke slowly and patiently. "We can split up if there are different passages and cover more ground."

"You can't be serious!" Cal cried. "Am I the only one who think this is an absurd plan?"

"Why do we need to find it at all?" Rose asked. "The story says it's in a cave found at the end of this route. We found the cave. Isn't that good enough? What use is the treasure?"

"We'll need it when we get back to the world," Jack said thoughtfully. "Taking some of it now can't hurt."

"Exactly," Clarence agreed, glad to have someone on his side again. "We can come back for the rest later."

"We're not splitting up," Jack said. "We're not going in tonight either."

"Fine," Clarence said.

"I still don't like it," Cal said. "But fine."

"Cheer up," Jack said. "There's money at the end of this." Cal frowned in reply. Jack turned to Rose. "Alright," she said. Samantha remained silent. No-one seemed to notice. Cal went off to gather firewood, grumbling to himself. Jack and Rose were talking, and Clarence was at the water, trying to catch dinner. With a pang she realized how alone she was; this was worse than all the times Cal ignored her, and it was her fault.

….

Samantha's hand bumped Clarence's as they reached for more food. She recoiled as if she'd been burned. He moved his mouth soundlessly. He withdrew his hand, no longer interested in food. Rose pretended not to notice; Jack did the same. Cal rolled his eyes and continued eating. He was of the opinion that both of them were behaving like children, and they should work through their problems. After all, they'd caused enough chaos in their quest to be together; they might as well _be together_. He hadn't told either of them this, of course. Why would he help their relationship along? Let them work it out on their own. Or let Jack and Rose fix it; they were good at things like that. Jack especially loved getting involved in other people's problems. Cal was surprised he hadn't done so already. He snuck at glance at Jack and saw he was absorbed in his dinner. Rose said something to him in a low voice. Jack looked at her, not seeing anyone else.

In fact, Jack had decided to focus only on Rose and himself for the remainder of their time on the island. The others could get along just fine on their own. He'd done enough to help them. There were more important things that needed his attention, and besides, when they did finally leave the island they would scatter, likely seeing each other rarely, if at all. These were friendships born out of fear and loneliness. Maybe Samantha was right; maybe none of them would feel the same without the island to hold them together.

Rose caught his eye, and he gave her hand a quick squeeze. "Are _you_ alright?" she asked.

"Fine," he said. "Ready to get this over with."

"It won't be long now," Rose said. "We only have a few more days, and we'll be going home."

"Rose, I've been thinking, maybe some of us should stay behind tomorrow," he said. "We don't know what's in there."

"By some of us, do you mean me?" She shook her head. "No, Jack. I'm going. If you can do it, so can I."

"Yeah, but—"

"No," Rose said firmly, loud enough for the others to hear. Ignoring their curious looks, she went on quietly. "We talked about this. You can't treat me differently now. You can't act like the slightest thing will kill me."

"It can," Jack said. She could tell from his eyes he was referring to more than just her pregnancy. Before, Jack had always been concerned with life, but now he thought more of death. Rose didn't like it; she wished he wouldn't. He was starting to act like himself again, but she knew he wasn't over what happened. He tried to hide it, the way he'd tried to hide what the War had done to him. Once the initial shock wore off, he pushed the feelings away. Rose wasn't sure which was better, having him nearly catatonic, overwhelmed by guilt and horror, or having him try and pretend he didn't feel any of it.

Grief for the Jack she'd met all those years ago washed over her. That Jack was so carefree, so easy to make smile; his blue eyes never dimmed; he was always certain they could survive, sure they could go on; they only needed each other. People said things like that every day. Lovers told each other they didn't need anything but love. Jack mean it; he believed it, and because he did, Rose believed it too.

She laced her fingers through his. "Maybe," she said. "We can't worry too much about that, though, can we?" Jack didn't answer.

….

They rose with the sun. Breakfast was eaten quickly. No-one had much of an appetite anyway. The cave was all that mattered. They had come so far, and now, their deliverance was finally at hand. They each carried a torch. They left their supplies, save for water and a few weapons, at the campsite. Once again, Clarence led the way. Samantha wanted to walk in front with him, but she didn't let herself. He looked at her, briefly, as they set out; she couldn't read his expression. Cal looked at them, shaking his head. She glared back at him.

Jack and Rise took their usual position behind Clarence. They moved quickly—or as quickly as Jack would allow. In spite of what Rose said, he refused to let her push herself. She wouldn't be hurt again, not if he was there. He slipped his hand into hers, comforted by her nearness.

This left Cal and Samantha in the back. She kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead and tried to pretend he wasn't there. Cal, on the other hand, was relaxed. He whistled softly, undeterred by her presence. Samantha was too busy ignoring him to keep up, and soon the others were far ahead. She swore under her breath when she realized they'd been left behind.

"Well then," Cal said, amused. She ignored him and quickened her pace. He matched it. His arm touched hers. She shot him a glare. "Could you possibly keep from touching me?" she said coldly. "It's bad enough I'm back here with you. I don't need any reminders."

"Whose fault is that?" he said. "I didn't make you walk next to me. You chose to do it."

"Shut up."

"Very nice," Cal said. "That's helpful."

"Would you leave me alone?" Samantha snapped. "I just want to catch up with the others." She looked around the dark cavern. "I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"You could have waited outside."

"No, I couldn't, and you know it," she said.

"Because you thought coming along would impress Clarence?" he shot back. "I doubt it has."

"Because I don't need another reason for everyone to hate me, alright? If I stay behind that's what will happen."

"Everyone doesn't hate you. We don't like you very much right now, but we don't hate you. Clarence might," he added. "You did tell him you have no faith in your relationship. In front of everyone."

"I told him I have no faith in _me_ ," Samantha cried. "Out there, I can't be what he wants. I can't be enough. He'll see that. Even after all these months I'm still delicate. I still react like the same sheltered, spoiled girl I was when we got here. I've tried to change. I joined in; I learned things, but it won't be enough in the real world."

"You're still saying you don't have any faith in him," Cal replied. "You don't believe he'll stay with you."

"Why would he?"

"Because he loves you," he said. "I don't think that's the real issue. This isn't about you being enough; it's about him not being enough. Admit it."

"That isn't—"

"Yes, it is." Cal spoke matter-of-factly. "You can't have your old life anymore, and people will know all about it. You're afraid you can't handle that."

"So what if I am?" she snapped.

"You don't love him as much as you think you do then," he said. "You aren't the first woman to leave me for a poor man, but you are the first to try and come back."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked. "Are you comparing me to Rose now? This isn't the same situation. I was your wife for four years. I loved you, and you ignored me. You never talked to me unless you had to. You didn't care I existed. I was the perfect wife!" Her voice went up. "You drove me to this!"

"Do you actually think I didn't do the same things to her? You have no idea the things I do to her—to them. She's never regretted her choice. Maybe the problem is I didn't make you two fight hard enough for one another," Cal said.

"Do you think it was easy deciding to be with him?" Samantha demanded. "Well, it wasn't. It was the most difficult decision I've ever made. I tried not to love him. I did plenty of fighting, with myself. I did the right thing; I know I did. Or—" Her voice faltered. "I thought I did. I don't know anymore. I love him, but how can that be enough?"

"Ask them," Cal said with a shrug. "I wouldn't know."

…..

The cavern was cool and dark. In the distance, they heard the skittering of bats. The longer they walked, the less sure of their quest they became. They lost all sense of time. Rose wondered if it had been hours or only minutes since they entered the cave. It felt like hours, but Jack disagreed. "Is this thing supposed to be out for anyone to find?" she asked.

"The location's supposed to be marked," Clarence said. He cast a doubtful glance around. "I don't see anything, though."

"Whatever it was coulda worn away by now," Jack said. "We might've walked right past it."

"I don't think we did," Rose said. "Everything else we were supposed to find was there. This will be marked too."

Cal and Samantha caught up with them as they reached the fork. "Which way do we go?" Cal asked.

"We could—" Clarence began.

"We're not splitting up," Jack said.

"If we don't split up, it'll take us days," Clarence protested. "We—"

"No," Jack said firmly.

"How do we decide which tunnel to take/" Rose asked.

"Does anyone have a coin?" Cal said.

"Did the map say anything about this?" Jack asked.

Clarence shook his head. "The map says nothing after it gets to the cave. That would be too helpful."

"Great," Cal muttered.

Samantha studied the walls between the two paths. She wasn't sure, but it looked like there was something there. "Look at this," she said.

"What is it?" Rose said. They crowded around to see. Jack held his torch close. "It looks like an arrow," he said. "Pointing to the left."

"So, that's the way we go?" Cal said.

"Would they have left false clues?" Rose said.

"I don't think so," Clarence said.

"Let's go then," Cal said impatiently.

This cavern was narrower than the first. They had to walk single file. The walls pressed on them, making breathing difficult. Clarence wanted to check on Samantha, and he nearly did. He stopped himself at the last second. He heard her talked softly and was glad she didn't sound afraid. Jack walked with one hand on Rose's back, reassuring himself as much as her. The cavern twisted and turned, taking them deeper and deeper into the earth. Cal wondered if it was still day outside.

Clarence stopped short, gasping quietly. Rose almost walked into him. "What is it?" she said.

He looked over his shoulder. "We found it."

…..

There were two chests. They carried one outside. Jack took one end, Clarence the other. Their progress was slow, but finally they emerged into the sunlight. Their eyes burned after the darkness of the cave.

"Let's open it," Cal said eagerly. Amazingly, it wasn't locked. Too much had happened for this to seem suspicious. They gathered around as Clarence lifted the lid. The gold glittered. Years spent hidden away in the dark hadn't dulled it at all. Samantha's eyes widened. Jack whistled. Cal touched it, moving the coins through his hands reverently. "I can't believe it's real," Rose said.

"I wasn't sure either," Clarence said. "I wanted to believe."

When had he doubted their quest? Samantha looked at him curiously. He hadn't told her. Was that where his recent need to prove himself came from? Did he think he couldn't tell her? _I would have understood_ , she wanted to say. Clarence caught her eye, and for a moment neither of them looked away. She stepped closer, but if he noticed he didn't let on.

"What do we do now?" Cal asked.

"We head back," Jack said. "Start building a boat."

…

Compared to the trip out there, the trip back was quick and easy. They didn't take much. They stayed on the move as much as possible. Now that they believed leaving wasn't just a dream, no-one wanted to waste time. Even Samantha was a little excited about it. Finally, she could get away from Cal. _That_ would certainly be a relief. Then she remembered she would also be getting away from Clarence, and her spirits sank. She watched him lead their little group back to camp. He walked with such purpose; his lean, muscled body hard to look away from. Samantha wished she were still walked next to him. She wished she could take his hand. She wished she could touch him even a little bit.

Samantha's cheeks reddened as she realized Rose was watching her watch him. She ducked her head. Rose offered her and understanding smile. Samantha remembered what Cal had said and wondered if she really should ask her what to do. Rose helped her before. It might be a good idea. Samantha didn't know how to bring it up. She was still too ashamed of what she'd done to say more than a few words to any of them, except for Cal. He didn't count. What did his opinion matter? He was nothing to her. But Jack and Rose, they were her friends, the first real friends she'd had in a long time. And Clarence, he was—she didn't know the word for him. She just knew she loved him, and she wanted him back.

…..

"Rose?" Samantha said it slowly. Rose looked up, surprised to see her. The others were setting up camp. Her chore was berry picking, something which she thought Jack made up to make her think she was doing something when really, she wasn't. It was part of his plan to keep her lifting a finger more than was absolutely necessary.

"Don't tell me," Rose said. "Jack sent you to let me know I should only pick berries I can reach without bending over or stretching out my arm. Am I close?"

"Jack didn't send me. I just wanted to see if you needed any help. I see you don't, though."

"You can help," Rose offered. "I don't mind. I only have this bowl to put them in, but we can share." She sensed Samantha wanted to say something; she didn't press it. It might take a while, but eventually Samantha would say what was on her mind. They worked in silence, picking berries slowly. Samantha studied each one before placing it in the bowl. "May I—Would it be alright if I talked to you about something?" The words came out in a rush.

"Sure," Rose said. "What about?"

"Clarence. And what I did."

"Go on," Rose said patiently.

"I'm sorry," Samantha said. "Really, Rose, I am. I don't know what I was thinking. No, I do know. I thought I knew best, that I could decide for everyone based on what I wanted. That was wrong. I see that now. I knew it was when I did it. I didn't care."

"You were afraid."

"Yes," Samantha said.

"You didn't want to lose him."

"That doesn't matter," Samantha said. "I've lost him. He doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Rose said. "He misses you as much as you miss him. Can't you tell?"

"I've tried not to think about it. Do you think you can forgive me?" Samantha asked. "If you can't, I understand. I'd probably hate me if I were you. I do hate myself, a little."

"I don't hate you," Rose said. "None of us hate you."

"Not even Jack? He looked at me like—"

"Not even Jack," Rose said. "He's still upset about what you did. He's worried about me and about what we'll do if we don't make it home. And three's what he had to do….You may not be able to understand how deeply that's affecting him. If you'd known him before the War, you'd see the difference. You'd see it isn't something he can make peace with easily. The way he feels right now, it affects everything he does."

"He looked like he'd hit me if he could," Samantha said. "If I were a man, he would've."

"Maybe, at that moment, he would have," Rose said. "I don't know. He never cared for violence. He fought when it was necessary, but he didn't start fights. He didn't carry a gun until now. He knew how to shoot a little, for hunting. We didn't do much of that."

"How did you do it?" Samantha asked. "How did you run away with him?"

"It was easy. It was the only choice. I loved him," Rose said.

"But you had nothing. You went from having everything to having nothing. Wasn't that hard?"

"It was harder than I ever imagined," Rose said. "But do you know what would have been even harder? Walking away from him. Believe me, I tried. Three times I walked away from him, and each time I went back. I didn't want to marry Cal, but it was more than that. I wanted to be with Jack. I didn't care what the terms were. I didn't care if it meant I'd only get a few more minutes with him."

"I must not love Clarence enough," Samantha said.

"Only you can decide that," Rose said. "Being afraid of losing him or of how your life will change doesn't mean you don't love him. I was afraid. I sent Jack away at first because I was so afraid."

Rose went over to Jack when they got back to the campsite. She put her arms around him. "I loved you," she said. He hugged her. "Where'd that come from, Petal?"

As that happened, Samantha went over to Clarence and took his hand.


	18. Chapter 18

Clarence and Samantha went off together, disappearing into the trees. "I'm not waiting until they get back before I have dinner," Cal announced. Rose shook her head. Jack just looked at him. "Well, I'm not," Cal said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why should I?"

"I _am_ hungry," Rose said. "Maybe eating now is a good idea. I doubt they care."

They settled around the fire, too hungry to care they were eating the same meal they'd eaten every day for months, and barely that. Their supplies were running low, thanks to the delays. They had fish and berries but little else. There was one can of milk. Jack gave it to Rose. Cal almost protested but thought better of it. They cleaned up and began preparing makeshift beds with no sign of Clarence and Samantha. The sun was sinking behind the trees when Jack said, "Think they got lost out there?"

"No," Cal said.

"They're probably talking," Rose said.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Cal said.

"We know you wouldn't," Jack said. "When you go off for hours, we'll extend that courtesy to you."

"Was that supposed to be funny?" Cal asked.

Jack shook his head. "Not a bit."

"The two of you aren't going to stop talking now, are you?" Rose said.

"Who said we wouldn't talk?" Cal replied. "I need some sort of entertainment. Jack's irritation is highly entertaining."

"I'm glad we're all adults here," Jack said drily.

"Do you think they're okay?" Rose asked seriously.

"We haven't heard any screams," Cal said. Rose frowned at him.

"I know what you mean, Rose," Jack said. "I think they're fine. They'll work it out."

….

At first they didn't talk. Being together in silence was more than enough. They wanted to talk, but the words wouldn't come. Clarence wished it could be all over with; he wished it was already behind them. He tried not to look at her too closely. His gaze kept returning to her lips. He imagined kissing her. The memory didn't compare to the reality.

"I want to trust you," he said. Her eyes brightened. "But I can't. Not yet."

"Can you forgive me?"

"I'm trying to," he said. "Sam, I love you. I don't know why. Maybe I shouldn't. We're so different. Maybe you're right about us."

"No, I was wrong," she said quickly. "Clarence, I was so wrong. I see that now. I don't know what I was thinking. I was so afraid of losing you. I was trying to prevent that."

"I know you were. I've been telling myself that."

"What can I do?" she asked.

"I was gonna ask you to marry me," Clarence said quietly. "When we got off the island, and you got the divorce."

"You were?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I would have said yes. I love you," she said. "I doubted us. I didn't think I was strong enough to be with you. I thought you'd see how useless I am in the real world, and you wouldn't want me anymore."

Clarence stared at her. "After what you've done here, how could you ever be useless?"

"I've been married to Cal four years," she said. "He's never found me particularly interesting."

"He's a damn moron."

"Well, I know that now." Samantha laughed weakly.

"I don't like being away from you," Clarence said. "We have to fix this."

…..

N announcements were made. Their time away wasn't discussed at all. That night Samantha slept next to Clarence. They rose early and set out, determined to make it back to the main campsite quickly. The trees provided a nice shade, but by noon they were all suffering from the heat. Rose's cheeks were flushed. Her hair kept slipped down. She didn't have the energy to protest when Jack put a hand on her back and steered her off the path. The others followed.

"Here," he said, offering her the water jug. She drank greedily. "Thank you," she gasped. He reached around and pinned her hair back up, pressing the pins as hard as he dared. "It won't stay," she said. "But thank you."

"You don't always hafta say that, Rose," Jack said.

"Sure I do."

Jack kissed her forehead. "Do you need something to eat?"

"Yes, actually. I didn't realize I was even hungry until now."

They ate lunch slowly, too hot to talk. They carried on. When it was time to camp for the night, they ate a quick dinner and fell asleep. The next couple of days went by in this manner, until finally they were home.

…..

Rise burrowed into the pillow. The skylight was open, sending fresh air down over her. They washed in the last. If it weren't for the others, Rose wouldn't have put her clothes back on. She shed them as soon as the door was closed, sighing in relief. Jack lay next to her. She slept lightly, but he was awake. He moved his hand over her, tracing her outline.

Now that they were back, treasure in hand, a whole new set of worries filled his thoughts. He spoke so confidently about the boat they would build, of sailing off to a populated island, of even the mainland, but what did he know about building a boat? How could they be sure it would stay afloat, let alone reach the shore? They might be blown off course again, capsized by another storm, or just drift for days, with no wind to carry them forward. They might run out of supplied before they made it anywhere.

They had to try. Jack knew that. They'd done too much to give up, and with the baby coming it was more important than ever they get home. Jack hugged her, curling his hand around her belly. It wasn't big yet, but he could feel a change. One day it was flat, the next there was a bump. It was growing, along with Jack's responsibilities. There were two people he had to protect.

…

They began after breakfast the next day. There was a heaviness in the air; they all knew how much rested on the success of this project. They talked only when necessary. There was none of the usual joking or snarky comments. They worked quickly, stopping only for a brief lunch. By the time dinner came around, they had the frame of a small boat completed. It wasn't fancy, but it would do.

They worked at the same pace for the next few days. Jack took breaks when he saw Rose needed one. She refused to rest by herself, arguing her efforts were needed. When Jack came along, she protested less. By the end of the first week the boat was nearly finished. They sewed the extra sheets together to make a sail.

There were two rooms below deck, one for storage, the other for sleeping. The deck was open and all on one level, except for a cooking area in the back. They used stones to create a small fire pit. Cal was skeptical of it, but Clarence assured them it would work. Jack wasn't entirely sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. He was waiting to see if it would float first.

Finally, the day came when the last nail was hammered. They stared at their creation in astonishment. The boat was finished. "Well, it looks like a boat," Cal said.

"Doesn't it?" Samantha agreed proudly.

"If it floats," Cal added. "It might actually be one."

"Do you have to be so negative?" Clarence asked.

"Forgive me for expressing a legitimate concern," Cal said. "A concern which I'm sure we all share. I'm not a carpenter or a ship builder, you know. Neither are you or anyone else here."

It was hard to argue with Cal's logic. The reality of what they were trying to do began setting in. As he glanced around the group, Jack saw his own fears reflected in their eyes. "Why don't we test it?" Rose suggested.

"Now?" Clarence said.

"Of course now," Rose replied. "We didn't put all that time into getting it built to wait another month to leave, did we?" She turned to Jack for support, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. The plan forming in his mind wasn't one she would agree to readily. He would have to figure out a way to convince her.

"I'm not testing it," Cal said.

"What a surprise," Clarence muttered.

"I will," Rose volunteered.

"No, you'll stay here," Jack said. "Me and Clarence'll go."

The water was calm, the wind light. Clarence unfurled the sails. Jack held the wheel. The others watched from the beach as the little boat bobbed along. The breeze picked up, and the sails expanded. Jack held his breath. They were sailing.

Rose ran down the beach after them, followed by Cal and Samantha. He steered the boat into a small cove. The anchor—a heavy boulder with a rope tied around it—was dropped, and the boat was tied to the trunk of a tree as an extra precaution.

"It didn't sink," Clarence said triumphantly, as he jumped to the ground.

"You don't know what a comfort an unsinkable ship is to us," Cal said drily. Rose laughed. Jack chuckled. Samantha rolled her eyes at him.

Clarence ignored the comment. "We can go as soon as she's packed up. The route's all worked out. If the wind's right, we'll be back in civilization in two days."

Rose's heart leapt. Just two days? It could be possible. After months on the island, would they even know how to behave around other people? They didn't have decent clothes anymore. Her dresses had all been cut short or used as something else. The shorts she wore were frayed; her slips were little more than rags. Jack's shirts were on the verge of tearing at the seams; his pants had holes and tears, and none came past his knees anymore. Nothing could be done about it. She had to accept it. What did it matter how they looked? They _survived_ ; that's what mattered.

"We can go that soon?" Jack said.

Clarence nodded. "That soon."

"Let's start packing them," Cal said. "What are we waiting for?"

"You're sure the map's right?" Jack asked.

"Hey, we found the gold, didn't we?" Clarence said. "That's the only way I can tell you where we are. It was where the map said it'd be, so we must be on that island, which means the other islands aren't far away."

Jack's face was pensive. "What if they're not?" he said quietly. They pretended not to hear him. It was a possibility they dared not think about. If they thought too much about the risk, they'd never leave. Life on the island wasn't ideal, but at least they knew how to get through each day. They wouldn't run out of food or drown.

….

Jack mulled over his idea for the rest of the day. They went over their supplies, deciding what to take and what to leave behind. His mind was only half-present. His distraction was obvious enough for Rose to comment on it, but he shrugged it off. Finally, as they walked back to their hut after dinner, he said, "Rose, you know everything that could happen if we go, right?"

Rose turned to look at him. "No, Jack," she said, in answer to a question he hadn't asked yet.

"Rose—"

"I'm not staying here," she said.

"I didn't say that."

"No, Jack. No," she said. "You were going to say it. I can see it in your eyes. That isn't going to happen. I won't. How could you even think that?"

"I haven't been thinking it long," Jack said. "It wasn't real until we got the boat finished. I wasn't sure it would actually happen. I wanted it to. I wanted it as much as all of you, but now…" He paused. "Rose, I don't want anything happening to you."

"It won't."

"Something could happen to all of us," he argued. "When we leave, that's it. Who know if we'll be able to make it back if we need to, or if we'll manage to stay on course. That ocean—" He pointed toward the water. "It's dangerous, and you know that, Rose."

"Nothing is safe, Jack," she said. "You can't be sure about anything. You taught me that. Remember?"

"I was talking about cards."

Rose shook her head. "Not just about cards."

"I don't want you going," Jack said firmly.

"So, you're going to leave me here?" she said, an edge in her voice. "Alone? That sounds much safer. Why do you get to take all the risk?"

"Rose, I'm not—"

"Yes, you do," she said, cutting him off. "Whenever something dangerous happens, you put yourself at risk and try to push me aside. You've always done it. On the ship you did everything you could to get me into that boat short of pushing me-"

"Didn't do much good, did it?" he said. "You wouldn't stay." His shoulders were tense. His mouth was a thin line. "You never listen—"

"Oh, I'm supposed to _listen_ ," Rose snapped. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner? I didn't realize I was supposed to be taking directions from you. All these years, I thought we did everything together, including risk-taking. Clearly, I was wrong." She turned on her heel.

"Rose, wait," he called, hurrying after her.

"Leave me alone!"

"I won't," Jack said, taking her arm. She jerked out of his grip, glaring at him. "Rose, listen to me, please. I can't—if something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd survive, the way you always do."

"No, I wouldn't," he said. "Maybe back then, I would've, but it's been too long. You're too much a part of me. If you weren't there, what would be the point? If I'm not showing you the world or seeing it with you, I'm not seeing it. I don't remember how to live without you, Rose."

"Do you think I feel differently?" she demanded. "Do you think losing you wouldn't completely shatter me? Jack, I've had to live through nearly losing you so many times!" she cried.

"Rose—" Jack reached for her. She moved away, shaking her head. "No," she said. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to act like my life is so much more valuable than yours, not anymore. Not even because of the baby. I know that's why you're saying this now."

"Is that so wrong?" Jack asked. "To want the two of you safe, even if I'm not? I'd do anything to make that happen. If it meant I had to die to save you, I would. I love you more than my own life, Rose, more than my freedom. I knew loving you would change everything, but it was worth it." 

Rose's shoulders shook. Tears fell down her cheeks. "You can't do this," she said haltingly. "It's not fair, Jack. No."

"Rose." She was stiff as he put his arms around her. This wasn't going the way he planned at all. She wasn't supposed to be crying. Each sob felt like a blow. She stayed rigid, refusing to let him hold her. "You jump, I jump," she said. "It's always been that way. It isn't changing now."

….

They slept apart. Jack couldn't remember a time when she didn't sleep in his arms. The War was the only time they were separated, and even then he felt her near. She didn't speak to him as they got up. He gave her a pleading look. Her eyes softened slightly; her mouth twitched, as if she wanted to speak, but she didn't. Jack ate a few bites of breakfast before setting it aside. Rose did the same. "You should eat more," he said quietly. She didn't look at him, but she did finished breakfast.

They parted for the rest of the day. Bit by bit the boat's storeroom was filled. The sleeping room was next. Jack tried to join in the conversation, but his throat was full; words passed through painfully. Rose laughed and chattered as if nothing was wrong, to his amazement. She didn't look at him. Her silence was deafening. Being so completely ignored was worse than her not being there at all.

Jack followed her to the lake. "Let me carry those," he said, reaching for the full water jugs. Rose pretended not to hear him. "Rose, please talk to me." She gathered the jugs and walked off, moving slowly under their weight. "You can't ignore me forever," he said. He stepped in front of her, blocking the path. "Rose, please, I'm sorry."

"I'm not angry, Jack. I'm upset. I need to think."

"About what?"

"Everything," she said flatly.

"About us?" he said hesitantly. His feelings were written across his face. "You aren't gonna leave me, are you?"

"No," Rose said. "I'd never do that."

"What then?"

"No matter what we do, one of us might die," she said. "I always thought we took on that risk together. You had to stay onboard, so I stayed with you. You had to go to War, so I went with you, or as close as I could get. Every day I was there I feared seeing you. I dreaded going over to a cot and finding you there, bleeding, mangled, dying." Her words came out in a rush. "I did everything I could to help those men, but often it wasn't enough. I hoped wherever you were, if you were hurt, someone was trying to help." Her voice shook. "I receive a few proposals because of it." She laughed shortly.

"I didn't know that," Jack said.

"I didn't tell you. It didn't seem important. They were just sad and scared. I didn't want you thinking I would ever consider another man."

"I never thought you would."

"It's always been you, Jack," Rose said. "You touched my hand; I looked into your eyes, and I was lost. If you're going back out on the ocean, I'm going with you. I don't care what you say. I'm not any safer here, and if something happens, to either of us, I want to be with you."

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out. What's there to think about?" Jack asked.

"What to do if you don't see things the way I do."

"I just want to know you'll be alright, Rose. That's all I ever wanted," he said.

"You can carry one of these," she said.

…..

Rose had a pensive air about her the rest of the night and the next morning. She said little, but her coolness toward Jack was gone. Jack wore a solemn look. Despite what Rose said, he still didn't want her going. He would've stayed behind with her if that's what it took to keep her on dry land. He never intended to leave her alone. In the back of his mind he always planned to ask Cal to stay with her. It was a strange idea, and he knew it, but he was also sure Cal would protect her.

Emotions buzzed through the group as they boarded the boat. Excitement. Fear. Relief. They couldn't settle on one. "That's that," Rose said softly as they began moving away from the island.

Jack out his arms around her. This time she relaxed into him. "You jump, I jump, right?"

"Right," she said.


	19. Chapter 19

The sea spread out before them, vast and empty. The sky was clear; the sun shone for the first few days, and the mood among them was bright. A brisk wind kept them moving, and they followed the course Clarence set. In many ways their lives weren't that different. They spent their days doing minor chores and looking for amusement. A few times, when it was excruciatingly hot, they tossed down the makeshift anchor and went swimming. They were careful not to stray too far from the boat, scrambling back onboard at the first sign of trouble. Samantha kept expecting to encounter sharks, and she believed every fish that brushed her leg was waiting to devour her. Cal wasn't entirely sure she was wrong, but he would never have admitted it.

"Are you still nervous?" Rose asked.

Jack shook his head. They leaned against the rail, gazing out at the setting sun. "I'm feeling better," he said. "We might really make it."

She squeezed his hand. "We will, Jack."

"I've been so worried about gettin us there we haven't even talked about what we'll do," he said. "We don't have a home."

"We've never had one. Not a permanent one, anyway."

"I know," he said. "And we're gonna travel with the baby, but for the new few months we should stay put, don't you think?"

"I'm not a delicate flower," she said mildly.

"I've never called you that, Rose. This pregnancy hit you kind of hard, though. It's still taking a lot out of you. I can tell. You're doing a good job of hiding it, but I can tell. There's no reason to push yourself, Rose. We're gonna rest for a while."

She could tell from his tone he needed it too. Golden locks fell over his eyes, making him look like the golden boy she met all those years ago, on another boat, in another lifetime. Rose couldn't believe they were still together. She was amazed they'd survived so much, not just physically, but as a couple. How many couples splintered and fell apart over little things? As if sensing her thoughts, Jack smiled. "I couldn'ta done any of this without you," he said. "I haven't wanted to talk about my feelings or what's happened. I'm trying to tell you more, Petal. Just knowing you're there, that helps more than anything else. I've probably told you already." He shrugged. "Can't hurt to say it again, right?"

"No, it can't," Rose said.

The most challenging part of the voyage so far was sleeping in the same room together. Clarence brought the fishing nets, and those that weren't used for catching dinner were hung from the walls and turned into hammocks. Cal hated this system. "They smell like fish," he complained.

"They do not," Rose said.

"They do," Cal argued.

"Put a sheet over it," Jack suggested. "It won't smell so strong that way."

"I don't smell anything," Clarence said.

"How nice for you," Cal said sarcastically. "I guess my senses are more refined than yours. No surprise there."

Clarence scowled at him but didn't reply.

"Let's try to get along," Jack said. "This isn't permanent, remember? We just gotta get through it for a few more days. It's not easy for any of us. You don't see and Rose complaining, do you?"

"Oh, leave me out of it, please," Rose said.

"When we finally reach dry land again, it won't be a moment too soon," Cal said.

"At least we all agree on that," Samantha said.

…

Rose was asleep when Jack slipped up to the deck. The heat went away with the sun, leaving them to a chilly night. He put his hands in his pockets, squaring his shoulders against the unexpected cold. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, especially after the scorching heat of the past few months. Jack had nearly forgotten what a cold night felt like. He leaned against the beam, remembering long winter nights spent next to blazing fires, Rose in his arms. They always found a way to keep warm. He smiled to himself.

"What are you so cheerful about?" Cal asked, breaking the silence. Jack turned toward him, surprised but not displeased. "Reliving old memories," he said.

"How you and she don't already have eight children is beyond me."

"We weren't planning on this one," Jack said.

"Maybe you should have left her alone," Cal replied.

"I know. Believe me, I've thought of that."

"I didn't expect you to agree so readily," Cal said.

"We talked about the possibility," Jack said. "Back when we first got here. She was afraid this would happen." Guilt crept into his voice. "We agreed…it would be…not a good idea. I'm happy about it, but I wish the circumstances were different. I wish it weren't so hard on her. I wish I'd left her alone. It was only a few months. I was in France for two years," he added with a dry chuckle.

"I doubt she blames you," Cal said. "I doubt she's ever blamed you for anything."

"Rose knows I'm not perfect, probably better than anyone."

"She dotes on you anyway," Cal said.

"Yeah." Jack couldn't help smiling. "But that's what love is. Seeing all the bad stuff and still wanting to be with that person anyway, still being happier with them than without them."

"That sounds nice."

"It is," Jack said. "You'll get it. Eventually."

"That's not likely."

"You gotta be open to it," Jack said. "Do you think I expected to meet Rose? You think I seriously thought she'd ever go with me?"

"Yes. You knew she would."

"I thought she would," Jack said. "I wasn't certain. I climbed that railing after her so confident, sure I just had to tell her how I felt, and she'd go with me right then."

"And she did," Cal said.

"She didn't. She told me to go. I didn't think I'd see her again, but a couple hours later, there she was."

"Oh, it took so long," Cal said drily. In a serious tone," he added, "What are you planning to do?"

"We haven't completely worked that out yet," Jack answered. "Rest somewhere, until the baby's born. Learn how to live among people again."

"You're taking your share of the money?"

"Of course," Jack said. "We aren't crazy. We know we'll need it."

"I wasn't sure you wouldn't have some objection to it," Cal said.

"It's found money. It belongs to no-one. If we don't take it, starting over will be almost impossible. We've done it before, but I don't want that kind of stress on her now."

"Jack, when we get home, this…friendship, it won't be over, will it?"

Jack was stunned. "You don't want it to be? I figured you'd just as soon forget all about this."

"I don't have many close friends," Cal said. 'I'd like to keep the two of you around."

"To be honest, I've been thinking none of us would stay friends."

Cal spoke softly. "I see."

"Maybe I was wrong," Jack said. "Maybe it's me who wanted to forget. I can't, though. What happened back there, I've gotta accept it."

"You mean killing those two savages?"

"You put it so delicately," Jack said. "And yeah."

"You did the right thing. You had to do it," Cal said. "Just think what they would have done to Rose."

"I know. I've dreamed about it. I'd kill 'em again to protect her. But it still feels wrong."

"You have an overdeveloped conscience," Cal replied.

"And you have an underdeveloped one," Jack joked. "I guess we have to stay friends to keep things balanced."

"If you like you can stay with me," Cal offered. He kept his eyes on the water. "I know you aren't going anywhere in particular. It might make things easier."

"Thank you," Jack said. "We just might."

…

It was raining when they awoke the next morning. It was a light rain, but it was enough to put a damper on their moods. "We can stay on course," Clarence reported, trying to sound cheerful. "The wind is good. We should be there in another day or so."

"I thought you said it would only take two or three days," Cal grumbled. "What happened to that?"

"That was an estimate, and a hopeful one at that," Clarence said. "We've had good winds, but they haven't been strong enough to push us as far as we could have gone. It's not a problem. We have plenty of supplies."

"For now," Cal said darkly.

"We can always go back if we have to," Rose said. "We'll be fine. There's no reason to upset ourselves." She leaned against the post as a wave of nausea passed through her. The color drained from her face.

Samantha eyed her with concern. "Rose, are you alright?"

Jack moved over to her. "Rose?"

"I'm fine," Rose said. Her voice came out weaker than she intended.

"You're pale," Cal pointed out.

"I've always been pale," Rose said. The joke fell flat.

"C'mon, let's go downstairs," Jack suggested. "We shouldn't stand around in the rain anyway."

"I like the way it feels," Rose said.

"Please?" Jack said. "We'll come back up later."

"We'll all go," Samantha said. "I'm quite soaked, and I don't care for it."

"I'll stay up here and make sure we stay on course," Clarence volunteered. "This rain'll be over soon."

He was wrong. It was raining harder by that afternoon.

…

The rain continued. Sometimes it was a drizzle, other times a downpour, but it never stopped completely. The temperature dropped. They huddled below deck, damp and cold. It was the coldest they'd been since the storm that landed them on the island, and they didn't know how to deal with it. They'd already forgotten how to battle the seasons.

Clarence and Samantha sat in their hammock, arms around each other. They didn't talk much. Clarence's face was drawn. He'd finally given up and dropped the anchor when the rain became too heavy to see through. There was barely any wind now, so it didn't really matter; they weren't going anywhere anyway. Cal faced the wall, the tension in his back making clear exactly how he felt about their situation. Jack and Rose lay in their hammock, holding each other. Her head rested on his shoulder. One of his hands rested on her belly. They didn't talk either. What was there to say?

By the third day their spirits were lower than ever. The weight of the silence was unbearable. When Rose spoke her voice was barely a whisper. "We should do something. This can't go on."

"What do you suggest?"

"I don't know, Jack, anything," she said. "You're good at cheering people up."

"Am not," he said.

"You always cheer me up."

"That's cause you're my Flower-Girl," he said, kissing her.

"Will you try?" Rose asked. "Please?"

Jack sat up. "Hey everybody, let's do something besides sit around worrying," he said loudly. Cal didn't move. Clarence and Samantha glanced at him. "Like what?" Cal said flatly.

"Let's play a game," Jack suggested.

"A game?" Samantha said dubiously.

"Yeah, like charades, something that'll get us up," Jack replied. "I know it's cold, but we'll be warmer if we move a little."

Reluctantly, they all turned to face each other. "How do we start?" Clarence asked. "We don't have any paper."

"We can make them up," Rose said.

"I'll go first," Jack said, leaping to his feet."

It took a few tries, but eventually they were all calling out answers eagerly. The little room began to feel warmer, and their fears melted.

"Hey, I think it's letting up," Clarence said. "Hear that?"

"I don't hear anything," Rose said.

"Exactly," Clarence said with a grin.

The wind picked up a bit, but they didn't move as quickly as they would have liked. The sun came out the next day, and they ran outside like children. Five pairs of eyes scanned the horizon, desperately hoping to spot land, but there was nothing. "Let's tell stories," Jack said. "Gives us something to do."

They sat in a circle on deck, conjuring the most blood-curdling tales they could think of. The weather was forgotten. Their whole predicament was forgotten. "And then the man with the hook sprang out from behind the door," Rose said. Samantha shuddered.

"What happened next?" Cal asked.

"They never found the bodies," Rose said. "No-one knows what happened to them."

"Then where did the story come from?" Cal said.

Clarence rolled his eyes. "Must you?"

"Fine," Cal said. "It's my turn anyway."

It happened the next afternoon. No-one was sure who saw it first. They began screaming all at once.

"Jack, look!" Rose pointed.

"Land!" Cal's arms waved.

Jack pulled Rose close. "I see it!"

Samantha burst into tears. Clarence laughed. Jack and Rose held each other, crying as well. "It's real," Jack said. "Finally."

….

 _Two Years Later_

"If we don't leave now we'll be late," Rose called up the stairs. She held the baby against her hip. "Your father's taking so long to get dressed," she said. He grinned in reply. "That's what he'll say," she said. A moment later Jack came down the stairs. "Am I presentable?" he said.

"You're lovely," she said. "Let's go."

"We could be fashionably late."

"Only five of us will be there, well, six with Nicky here," she pointed out. "I don't think you can be fashionably late to a party that small."

"You're right," Jack said. "Let's go."

It only took a few minutes to reach Cal's apartment. Despite Rose's prediction, they were the first to arrive. They were shown into the sitting room and left to wait. "It looks different," Jack said.

"He's changed things," Rose agreed.

It was odd, being back there with everything so familiar and yet so different. It had only been a few months since they moved out completely. After Nick was born, they stayed while Rose recovered. When the two of them were strong enough to travel, they left. Their trips were short at first, a week or so at a time, but gradually they became longer. Now, they spent most of their time away from the home they bought in New York.

Cal hadn't wanted them to leave. "You don't have to go," he said. "I'm not here all the time. You're practically alone already."

"It's not you," Rose said.

"We want to start traveling again," Jack added.

"I can't see why," Cal said. "After our experiences, I never want to go anywhere outside of this country again."

"You can't let what happened stop you," Rose said. "There are still so many places to see."

"I've seen enough," Cal replied.

Nick was sitting in her lap. He looked up at Cal and said something unintelligible. Cal's eyes lit up, and it was then Jack realized how badly Cal wanted them to stay. Their situation was something he never would've imagined. It wasn't something he would have wanted before the island. Cal, of all people, felt like family now.

Jack shook his head at the memory, and another surfaced. He was with Rose when Nick was born, holding her hand, while Cal waited anxiously outside. Jack was crying when he came to tell him. Cal's face went pale. "She's alright, isn't she?" he said.

"She's fine!" Jack said happily. "The baby's fine." Without thinking, they hugged, something which surprised them both. Later, Cal told him, "I don't expect to have any children."

"You might," Jack said.

Cal shook his head. The divorce was final. Samantha and Clarence were married, somewhere in South America. No-one was exactly sure where they were. "I probably won't marry again," he said.

"Why not?"

"It's not that I don't want a family," Cal said. "But I want it to be right. If I—" He shook his head again. "It's not important."

"Sure it is," Jack said. "You want a Rose, don't you? Someone you love."

"Yes."

They didn't know how Cal found Clarence and Samantha, but he did. The party was his idea. They all went back to the island once to retrieve the rest of the treasure. They divided it evenly. That was the easy part. Going back to the old campsite was harder than anyone anticipated.

Rose held tightly to Jack's hand as they got closer. He flashed her a reassuring smile. Memories washed over her. There, that's where they ate, and the lake was down that path. The was where Jack was shot. She half-expected to see bloodstains on the sand.

They built those huts by themselves with only a few tools and a basic idea of what to do. It didn't seem possible. She felt the anxiety of those days again, the worries about running out of supplies, injuries. She didn't remember when Jack's arm healed. He simply began ignoring the pain because she needed him. Eventually, it went away.

"Should we stay the night?" Clarence asked. "One more time?"

They all said no. "We can't go back," Rose said.

"That's for the best," Jack said.

Clarence and Samantha were shown in as Cal arrived. 'You're all here," Cal said cheerfully. "Good."

"All the way from Argentina," Samantha said.

"Or somewhere off the coast," Clarence added.

"You're sailing again?" Cal said incredulously.

"Sure. Why not?" Samantha said. "It's not as terrifying when there isn't a storm and two armed men after us."

"I hope not," Jack said with a laugh. His eyes were lighter now. His shoulders didn't carry so much tension. The memories of the War still plagued him but not as often. The nightmares were gone. He didn't feel the overwhelming guilt anymore.

Jack didn't know what changed him. Maybe it was time. Maybe he just finally healed. "I'll take him," he offered, holding his arms out. Nick settled happily in his lap. Maybe, and he leaned toward this, it was Rose and Nick. And Cal. He couldn't leave him out; that would hardly be fair.

"I think you're both crazy," Cal was saying.

"Don't listen to him," Rose said. "He thinks we're crazy too. He gave us a lecture on the dangers of traveling." She laughed. "And this is the safest we've ever been."

"You shoulda seen us when we didn't have any money," Jack said. " _That_ was dangerous. Hopping in freight cars isn't something I'd advise."

"But it was fun," Rose said.

"Yeah, it was," Jack agreed.

"Sounds fun," Clarence said. "I'd do it."

"What wouldn't you do?" Cal asked.

"Clearly, I'm more adventurous than you," Clarence replied.

Verbal barbs were still thrown when they were together, but the intensity of their dislike for one another had softened into an uneasy truce. They weren't friends; they would never be friends, but they weren't enemies. The three of them went to the wedding. Cal left early, though he did manage a few nice words before he went. Samantha thanked him in her toast, and he frowned, uncomfortable under her words.

"Aren't we having dinner tonight?" Samantha said.

"Yes, now, as a matter of face," Cal said. "Don't be so impatient."

Jack kissed Rose as they got up. She smiled. "What was that for?"

"For you."

"This is it, you know," she said.

"What?"

"It's the life I knew we'd have together," she said.

Jack knew exactly what she meant. The adventures and danger, the joy, twists and turns, the beauty, and the love. There was so much love, some of it unexpected, and unasked for, undeserved even at times, but still, it was there. Still _she_ was there. "It is, isn't it?" Jack said.

 **The End**

 **AN: Yes, it's the end for this one. I've enjoyed writing it, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. I thought about doing more chapters about life away from the island, but the story just felt finished.**


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